\6lt) 
SC08WI 
|l828 
IV.  1 


WAVERLEY;  ^-^^ , 


^ r- 


'TIS    SIXTY    YEARS    SINCE. 


COMPLETE  IN  TWO  VOLUMES. 


Under  which  King,  Bezonian  ?  speak,  or  die  ! 
Henry  lY.  Part  11. 


ToL  I. 


WAFERLET    NOVELS.       1. 


BOSTON  : 

SAMUEL  H    PARKER,  NO.  164  WASHINGTON-STPJEliT. 

1828. 


Waverley  Press— Boston. 


PZ3> 
l?29 


PREFACE 

TO  THE  THIRD  EDITION. 


To  this  slight  attempt  at  a  sketch  of  ancient  Scottish 
manners,  the  public  have  been  more  attentive  than  the 
Author  durst  have  hoped  or  expected.  He  has  heard, 
with  a  mixture  of  satisfaction  and  humility,  his  work 
ascribed  to  more  than  one  respectable  name.  Con- 
siderations, which  seem  weighty  in  his  particular  situ- 
ation, prevent  his  releasing  these  gentlemen  from  sus- 
picion, by  placing  his  owti  name  in  the  title-page  ;  so 
that,  for  the  present  at  least,  it  must  remain  uncertain, 
whether  Waverley  be  the  work  of  a  poet  or  a  critic, 
a  lawyer  or  a  clergyman,  or  whether  the  writer,  to  use 
Mrs.  Malaprop's  phrase,  be  "  hke  Cerberus — three 
gentlemen  at  once."  The  Author,  as  he  is  uncon- 
scious of  any  thing  in  the  w^ork  itself  (except  perhaps 
its  frivolity)  which  prevents  its  finding  an  acknowledg- 
ed father,  leaves  it  to  the  candour  of  the  public  to 
choose  among  the  many  circumstances  peculiar  to 
different  situations  in  Kfe,  such  as  may  induce  him  to 
suppress  his  name  on  the  present  occasion.  He  mav 
be  a  writer  new  to  publication,  and  unwilling  to  avow 
a  character  to  which  he  is  unaccustomed  ;  or  he  may 
be  a  hackneyed  author,  who  is  ashamed  of  too  fre- 
quent appearance,  and  employs  this  mystery,  as  the 
heroine  of  the  old  comedy  used  her  mask,  to  attract 
the  attention  of  those  to  whom  her  face  had  become 
too  famihar.  He  may  be  a  man  of  a  grave  profession, 
to  whom  the  reputation  of  being  a  novel-uTiter  may 
be  prejudicial ;  or  he  may  be  a  man  of  fashion,  to 
whom  writing  of  any  kind  might  appear  pedantic.    He 


IV  PREFACE. 

may  be  too  young  to  assume  the  character  of  an  au- 
thor, or  so  old  as  to  make  it  advisable  to  lay  it  aside. 
The  Author  of  Waverley  has  heard  it  objected  to 
this  novel,  that,  in  the  character  of  Galium  Beg,  and 
in  the  account  given  by  the  Baron  of  Bradwardine  of 
the  petty  trespasses  of  the  Highlanders  against  trifling 
articles  of  property,  he  has  borne  hard,  and  unjustly 
so,  upon  their  national  character.  Nothing  could  be 
farther  from  his  wish  or  intention.  The  character  of 
Galium  Beg  is  that  of  a  spirit  naturally  turned  to  dar- 
mg  evil,  and  determined,  by  the  circumstances  of  his 
situation,  to  a  particular  species  of  mischief.  Those 
who  have  perused  the  curious  Letters  from  the  High- 
lands, pubhshed  about  1726,  will  find  instances  of 
such  atrocious  characters  which  fell  under  the  writer's 
own  observation,  though  it  would  be  most  unjust  to 
consider  such  villains  as  representatives  of  the  High- 
landers of  that  period,  any  more  than  the  murderers 
of  Marr  and  Williamson  can  be  supposed  to  represent 
the  Enghsh  of  the  present  day.  As  for  the  plunder 
supposed  to  have  been  picked  up  by  some  of  the  in- 
surgents in  1745,  it  must  be  remembered,  that  al- 
though the  way  of  that  unfortunate  little  army  was 
neither  marked  by  devastation  nor  bloodshed,  but,  on 
the  contrary,  was  orderly  and  quiet  in  a  most  wonder- 
ful degree,  yet  no  army  marches  through  a  country  in 
a  hostile  manner  without  some  trespasses  ;  and  seve- 
ral, to  the  extent,  and  of  the  nature,  jocularly  imputed 
to  them  by  the  Baron,  were  really  laid  to  the  charge 
of  the  Highland  insurgents  ;  for  which  many  traditions, 
and  particularly  one  respecting  the  Knight  of  the 
Mirror,  may  be  quoted  as  good  evidence. 


WAVERLEY; 


'TIS    SIXTY    YEARS    SINGE, 


CHAPTER  1. 


Introductory. 

The  title  of  this  work  has  not  been  chosen  wither 
the  grave  and  sohd  dehberation  which  matters  of  impor 
tance  demand  from  the  prudent.  Even  its  first,  or  ger 
eral  denomination,  was  the  result  of  no  common  research 
or  selection,  although,  according  to  the  example  of  m\ 
predecessors,  I  had  only  to  seize  upon  the  most  sound- 
ing and  euphonic  surname  that  English  history  or  topog- 
raphy affords,  and  elect  it  at  once  as  the  title  of  my  worl: , 
and  the  name  of  my  hero.  But,  alas  !  what  could  ni) 
readers  have  expected  from  the  chivalrous  epithets  o 
Howard,  Mordaunt,  Mortimer,  or  Stanley,  or  from  th- 
softer  and  more  sentimental  sounds  of  Belmour,  Belviile. 
Belfield  and  Belgrave.  but  pages  of  inanity,  similar  h 
those  which  have  been  so  christened  for  half  a  century 
past  :  I  must  modestly  admit  I  arn  too  diffident  of  r-:-; 
own  merit  to  place  it  in  unnecessary  opposition  to  pre  - 
conceived  associations  :    I  have  therefore;,  like  a  maidb 

1"    voLri. 


"  WAVERI^Ey. 

knight  with  his  white  shield,  assumed  for  my  hero,  Wa- 
VERLEY,  an  uncontaminated  name,  bearing  with  its  sound 
little  of  good  or  evil,  excepting  what  the  reader  shall  be 
hereafter  pleased  to  affix  to  it.  But  my  second  or  sup- 
plemental title  was  a  matter  of  much  more  difficult  elec- 
tion, since  that,  short  as  it  is,  may  he  held  as  pledging 
the  author  to  some  special  mode  of  laying  his  scene, 
drawing  his  characters,  and  managing  his  adventures. 
Had  I,  for  example,  announced  in  my  frontispiece,  "  Wa- 
verley,  a  Tale  of  other  Days,"  must  not  every  novel- 
reader  ha\'e- anticipated  a  castle  scarce  less  than  that  of 
Udolpho,  of  which  the  eastern  wing  had  long  been  unin- 
habited, and  the  keys  either  lost  or  consigned  to  the  care 
of  some  aged  butler  or  housekeeper,  whose  trembling 
steps,  about  the  middle  of  the  second  volume,  were 
doomed  to  guide  the  hero  or  heroine,  to  the  ruinous  pre- 
cincts ?  Would  not  the  owl  have  shrieked  and  the  crick- 
et cried  in  my  very  title-page  f  and  could  it  have  been 
possible  for  me,  with  a  moderate  attention  to  deco- 
rum, to  introduce  any  scene  more  lively  than  might  be 
produced  by  the  jocularity  of  a  clownish  but  faithful 
valet,  or  the  garrulous  narrative  of  the  heroine's  fille-de- 
chamber,  when  rehearsing  the  stories  of  blood  and  hor- 
ror which  she  had  heard  in  the  servants'  hall  ?  Again, 
had  my  title  borne,  "  Waverley,  a  Romance  from  the 
German,"  what  head  so  obtuse  as  not  to  imagine  forth  a 
profligate  abbot,  an  oppressive  duke,  a  secret  and  mys- 
terious association  of  Rosicrusians  and  illuminati,  with 
ail  their  properties  of  black  cowls,  caverns,  daggers, 
electrical  machines,  trap-doors,  and  dark  lanterns  t'  Or 
if  I  had  rather  chosen  to  call  my  work  a  "  Sentimental 
Tale,"  would  it  not  have  been  a  sufficient  presage  of  a 
heroine  w-ith  a  profusion  of  auburn  hair,  and  a  harp,  the 
soft  solace  of  her  solitary  hours,  which  she  fortmiateiy 
finds  always  the  means  of  transporting  from  castle  to 
cottage,  although  she  herself  be  sometimes  obliged  to 
jump  out  of  a  two-pa ir-of-stairs  window,  and  is  more 
than  once  bewildered  on  her  journey,  alone  and  on  foot, 


^x.^ 


WAVERLEY.  7 

without  any  guide  but  a  blowsy  peasant  girl,  whose  jargon 
she  hardly  can  understand  ?  Or  again,  if  my  Waverley 
had  been  entitled  "  A  Tale  of  the  Times,"  wouldst  thou 
not,  gentle  reader,  have  demanded  from  me  a  dashing 
sketch  of  the  fashionable  world,  a  few  anecdotes  of  pri- 
vate scandal  thinly  veiled,  and  if  lusciously  painted  so 
much  the  better  ;  a  heroine  from  Grosvenor  Square,  and 
a  hero  from  the  Barouche  Club,  or  the  Four-in-Hand, 
with  a  set  of  subordinate  characters  from  the  elegantes 
of  Queen  Anne  Street  East,  or  the  dashing  heroes  of 
the  Bow-Street  Office  f  I  could  proceed  in  proving  the 
importance  of  a  title-page,  and  displaying  at  the  same 
time  my  own  intimate  knowledge  of  the  particular  ingre- 
dients necessary  to  the  composition  of  romances  and 
novels  of  various  descriptions.  But  it  is  enough,  and  I 
scorn  to  tyrannize  longer  over  the  impatience  of  my 
reader,  who  is  doubtless  already  anxious  to  know  the 
choice  made  by  an  author  so  profoundly  versed  in  the 
different  branches  of  his  art. 

By  fixing,  then,  the  date  of  my  story  Sixty  Years  before 
this  present  1st  November,  1805,  I  would  have  my  rea- 
ders understand  that  they  will  meet  in  the  following  pages 
neither  a  romance  of  chivalry,  nor  a  tale  of  modern 
manners  ;  that  my  hero  will  neither  have  iron  on  his 
shoulders,  as  of  yore,  nor  on  the  heels  of  his  boots,  as 
is  the  present  fashion  of  Bond  Street  ;  and  that  my 
damsels  v/ill  neither  be  clothed  "  in  purple  and  in  pall," 
like  the  Lady  Alice  of  an  old  ballad,  nor  reduced  to  the 
primitive  nakedness  of  a  modern  fashionable  at  a  route. 
From  this  my  choice  of  an  eera  the  understanding  critic 
may  farther  presage,  that  the  object  of  my  tale  is  more 
a  description  of  men  than  manners.  A  tale  of  manners, 
to  be  interesting,  must  either  refer  to  antiquity  so  great 
as  to  have  become  venerable,  or  it  must  bear  a  vivid 
reflection  of  those  scenes  which  are  passing  daily  belbre 
our  eyes,  and  are  interesting  from  their  novelty.  Thus 
the  coat-of-mail  of  our  ancestors,  and  the  tripple-furred 
pelisse  of  our  modern  beaux,  may,  though  for  very  dif- 


8  WAVERLEY. 

ferent  reasons,  be  equally  fit  for  the  array  of  a  fictitious 
character  ;  but  who,  meaning  the  costume  of  his  hero 
to  be  impressive,  would  willingly  attire  him  in  the  court 
dress  of  George  the  Second's  reign,  with  its  no  collar, 
large  sleeves,  and  low  pocket-holes  ?  The  same  may 
be  urged,  with  equal  truth,  of  the  Gothic  hall,  which, 
with  its  darkened  and  tinted  windows,  its  elevated  and 
gloomy  roof,  and  massive  oaken  table  garnished  with 
boar's  head  and  rosemary,  pheasants  and  peacocks,  cranes 
and  cygnets,  has  an  excellent  effect  in  fictitious  descrip- 
tion. Much  may  also  be  gained  by  a  lively  display  of  a 
modern  fete,  such  as  we  have  daily  recorded  in  that  part 
of  a  newspaper  entitled  the  Mirror  of  Fashion,  if  we 
contrast  these,  or  either  of  them,  with  the  splendid  for- 
mality of  an  entertainment  given  Sixty  Years  Since  ; 
and  thus  it  will  be  readily  seen  how  much  the  painter  of 
antique  or  of  fashionable  manners  gains  over  him  who 
delineates  those  of  the  last  generation. 

Considering  the  disadvantages  inseparable  from  this 
part  of  my  subject,  I  must  be  understood  to, have  resolv- 
ed to  avoid  them  as  much  as  possible,  by  throwing  the 
force  of  my  narrative  upon  the  characters  and  passions 
of  the  actors  ; — those  passions  common  to  men  in  all 
stages  of  society,  and  which  hav^e  alike  agitated  the  hu- 
man heart,  whether  it  throbbed  under  the  steel  corslet 
of  the  fifteenth  century,  the  brocaded  coat  of  the  eigh- 
teenth, or  the  blue  frock  and  white  dimity  waistcoat  of 
the  present  day.  Upon  these  passions  it  is  no  doubt  true 
that  the  state  of  manners  and  laws  casts  a  necessary 
colouring  ;  but  the  bearings,  to  use  the  language  of  her- 
aldry, remain  the  same,  though  the  tincture  may  be  not 
only  different,  but  opposed  in  strong  contradistinction. 
The  wrath  of  our  ancestors,  for  example,  was  coloured 
gules ;  it  brake  forth  in  acts  of  open  and  sanguinary 
^^iolence  against  the  objects  of  its  fury  :  our  mahgnant 
(<  alings,  which  must  seek  gratification  through  more  in- 
direct channels,  and  undermine  the  obstacles  which  rhey 
cannot  openly  bear  down,  may  be  rather  said  to  be  tine- 


WAVERLEY. 


tured  sable.  But  the  deep  ruling  impulse  is  the  same  in 
both  cases  ;  and  the  proud  peer,  who  can  now  only  ruin 
his  neighbour  according  to  law,  by  protracted  suits,  is  the 
genuine  descendant  of  the  baron  who  wrapped  the  castle 
of  his  competitor  in  flames,  and  knocked  him  on  the  head 
as  he  endeavoured  to  escape  from  the  conflagration.  It 
is  from  the  great  book  of  Nature,  the  same  through  a 
thousand  editions,  whether  of  black-letter,  or  wire-wove 
and  hot-pressed,  that  I  have  venturously  essayed  to  read 
a  chapter  to  the  pubhc.  Some  favourable  opportunities 
of  contrast  have  been  afibrded  me,  by  the  state  of  society 
in  the  northern  part  of  the  island  at  the  period  of  my 
history,  and  may  serve  at  once  to  vary  and  to  illustrate 
the  moral  lessons  which  I  w^ould  willingly  consider  as  the 
most  important  part  of  my  plan,  although  I  am  sensible 
how  short  these  will  fall  of  their  aim,  if  I  shall  be  found 
unable  to  mix  them  with  amusement, — a  task  not  quite 
so  easy  in  this  critical  generation  as  it  was  "  Sixty  Years 
Since. '^ 


CHAPTER  11. 

Waverley-Honour. — A  Retrospect. 

It  is,  then,  sixty  years  since  Edward  Waverley,  the 
hero  of  the  following  pages,  took  leave  of  his  family  to 
join  the  regiment  of  dragoons  in  which  he  had  lately 
obtained  a  commission.  It  w^as  a  melancholy  day  at 
Waverley-Honour  when  the  young  officer  parted  with 
Sir  Everard,  the  affectionate  old  uncle  to  whose  title  and 
estate  he  was  presumptive  heir.  A  difference  in  political 
opinions  had  early  separated  the  baronet  from  his  youn- 
ger brother,  Richard  Wav^erley,  the  father  of  our  hero. 
Sir  Everard  had  inherited  from  his  sires  the  whole  train 
of  tory  or    high-church   predilections  and    prejudices. 


10  WAVERIEY. 

which  had  distinguished  the  house  of  Waverley  since 
the  great  civil  war.  Richard,  on  the  contrary,  who  was 
ten  years  younger,  beheld  himself  born  to  the  fortune  of 
a  second  brother,  and  anticipated  neither  dignity  nor 
entertainment  in  sustaining  the  character  of  Will  Wim- 
ble. He  saw  early,  that  to  succeed  in  the  race  of  life, 
it  was  necessary  he  should  carry  as  little  weight  as  pos- 
sible. Painters  talk  of  the  difficulty  of  expressing  the 
existence  of  compound  passions  in  the  same  features  at 
the  same  moment :  It  would  be  no  less  difficult  for  the 
moralist  to  analyze  the  mixed  motives  which  -unite  to 
form  the  impulse  of  our  actions.  Richard  Waverley 
read  and  satisfied  himself  from  history  and  sound  argu- 
ment, that,  in  the  words  of  the  old  song, 

Passive  obedience  was  a  jest, 
And  pshaw !  was  non-resistance. 

Yet  reason  would  have  probably  been  unable  to 
remove  hereditary  prejudice,  could  Richard  have  antici- 
pated that  Sir  Everard,  taking  to  heart  an  early  disap- 
pointment, would  have  remained  a  bachelor  at  seventy- 
two.  The  prospect  of  succession,  however  remote,  might 
in  that  case,  hav^e  led  him  to  endure  dragging  through 
the  greater  part  of  his  life  as  "  Master  Richard  at  the 
Hall,  the  baronet's  brother,"  in  hopes  that  ere  its  con- 
clusion he  should  be  distinguished  as  Sir  Richard  Waver- 
ley of  Waverley-Honour,  successor  to  a  princely  estate, 
.andto  extended  political  connections  as  head  of  the  coun- 
try interest.  But  this  was  a  consummation  of  things  not 
to  be  expected  at  Richard's  outset,  when  Sir  Everard 
was  in  the  prime  of  life,  and  certain  to  be  an  acceptable* 
suitor  in  almost  any  family,  whether  wealth  or  beauty 
should  be  the  object  of  his  pursuit,  and  when,  indeed, 
his  speedy  marriage  was  a  repod;  which  regularly  amused 
the  neighbourhood  once  a  year.  His  brother  therefore 
saw  no  road  to  independence  save  that  of  relying  upon 
his  own  exertions,  and  adopting  a  political  creed  more 
consonant  both  to  reason  and  his  own  interest  than  the 


WAVERLEY.  1  1 

hereditary  faith  of  Sir  Everard  in  high-church  and  the 
house  of  Stuart.  He  therefore  read  his  recantation  at 
the  beginning  of  his  career,  and  entered  hfe  as  an  avow- 
ed whig,  and  friend  of  the  Hanover  succession. 

The  Ministry  of  the  period  were  prudently  anxious 
to  diminish  the  phalanx  of  opposition.  The  tory  nobil- 
ity, depending  for  their  reflected  lustre  upon  the  sun- 
shine of  a  court,  had  for  some  time  been  gradually 
reconciling  themselves  to  the  new  dynasty.  But  the 
wealthy  country  gentlemen  of  England,  a  rank  which 
retained,  with  much  of  ancient  manners  and  primitive 
integrity,  a  great  proportion  of  obstinate  and  unyielding 
prejudice,  stood  aloof  in  haughty  and  sullen  opposition, 
and  cast  many  a  look  of  mingled  regret  and  hope  to 
Bois  le  Due,  Avignon,  and  Italy.  The  accession  of  the 
near  relation  of  one  of  these  steady  and  inflexible  op- 
ponents was  considered  as  a  means  of  bringing  over 
more  converts,  and  therefore  Richard  Waverley  met 
with  a  share  of  ministerial  favour  more  than  proportion- 
ed to  his  talents  or  his  political  importance.  It  was, 
however,  discovered  that  he  had  respectable  parts  for 
pubhc  business,  and  the  first  admittance  to  the  minister's 
levee  being  negotiated,  his  success  became  rapid.  Sir 
Everard  learned  from  the  public  News  Letter,  first,  that 
Richard  Waverley  Esquire,  was  returned  for  the  minis- 
terial borough  of  Barterfaith  ;  next,  that  Richard  Waver- 
ley Esquire,  had  taken  a  distinguished  part  in  the 
debate  upon  the  Excise  Bill  in  the  support  of  govern- 
ment, and,  lastly,  that  Richard  Waverley  Esquire,  had 
been  honoured  with  a  seat  at  one  of  those  boards  where 
the  pleasure  of  serving  the  country  is  combined  with 
other  important  gratifications,  which,  to  render  them  the 
more  acceptable,  occur  regularly  once  a  quarter. 

Although  these  events  followed  each  other  so  closely 
that  the  sagacity  of  the  editor  of  a  modern  newspaper 
would  have  presaged  the  two  last  even  while  he 
announced  the  first,  yet  they  came  upon  Sir  Everard 
gradually,    and    drop    by    drop,    as   it   were,    distilled 


]  2  WAVERLET. 

through  the  cool  and  procrastinating  alembic  of  Dyer*3 
Weekly  Letter.  For  it  may  be  observed  in  passing, 
that,  instead  of  those  mail-coaches,  by  means  of 
which  every  mechanic  at  his  six-penny  club  may 
nightly  learn  from  twenty  contradictory  channels  the 
yesterday's  news  of  the  capital,  a  weekly  post  brought, 
in  those  days,  to  Waverley-Honour,  a  Weekly  Intelli- 
gencer, which,  after  it  had  gratified  Sir  Everard's  curi- 
osity, his  sisters,  and  that  of  his  aged  butler,  was  regu- 
larly transferred  from  the  hall  to  the  rectory,  from  the 
rectory  to  Squire  Stubb's  at  the  Grange,  from  the  Squire 
to  the  baronet's  steward  at  his  neat  white  house  on  the 
heath,  from  the  steward  to  the  bailiff,  and  from  him 
through  a  huge  circle  of  honest  dames  and  gaffers,  by 
whose  hard  and  horny  hands  it  was  generally  worn  to 
pieces  in  about  a  month  after  its  arrival. 

The  slow  succession  of  intelligence  was  of  some  ad- 
vantage to  Richard  Waverley  in  the  case  before  us. 
For  had  the  sum  total  of  his  enormities  reached  the  ears 
of  Sir  Everard  at  once,  there  can  be  no  doubt  the  new 
commissioner  would  have  had  litde  reason  to  pique  him- 
self on  the  success  of  his  politics.  The  baronet,  al- 
though the  mildest  of  human  beings,  was  not  without 
sensitive  points  in  his  character ;  his  brother's  conduct 
had  wounded  these  deeply  ;  the  Waverley  estate  was 
fettered  by  no  entail,  (or  it  had  never  entered  into  the 
head  of  any  of  its  former  possessors  that  one  of  their 
progeny  could  be  guilty  of  the  atrocities  laid  by  Dyer's 
Letter  to  the  door  of  Richard,)  and  if  it  had,  the  mar- 
riage of  the  proprietor  might  have  been  fatal  to  a  collat- 
eral heir.  These  various  ideas  floated  through  the 
brain  of  Sir  Everard,  without,  however,  producing  any 
determinate  conclusion. 

He  examined  the  tree  of  bis  genealogy,  which,  em- 
blazoned with  many  an  emblematic  mark  of  honour  and 
heroic  achievement,  hung  upon  the  well-varnished  wain- 
scot of  his  hall.  The  nearest  descendants  of  Sir  Hilde- 
brand  Waverley,  failing  those  of  his    eldest  son  Wilfred, 


WAVE  RLE  Y. 


13 


of  whom  Sir  Everard  and  his  brother  were  the  only 
representatives,  were,  as  this  honoured  register  informed 
him,  (and  indeed,  as  he  himself  well  knew)  the  Waver- 
leys  of  Highley  Park,  com.  Hants ;  with  whom  the  main 
branch,  or  rather  stock,  of  the  house  had  renounced  all 
connection  since  the  great  law-suit  in  1670.  This 
scion  had  committed  a  further  offence  against  the  head 
and  source  of  their  gentility,  by  the  intermarriage  of 
their  representative  whh  Judith,  heiress  of  Ohver  Brad- 
shawe,  of  His^hley  Park,  whose  arms,  the  same  with 
those  of  Bradshawe  the  regicide,  they  had  quartered 
with  the  ancient  coat  of  Waverley.  These  offences, 
however,  had  vanished  from  Sir  Everard's  recollection  in 
the  heat  of  his  resentment,  and  had  Lawyer  Chppurse,  for 
whom  his  groom  was  despatched  express,  arrived  but  an 
hour  earlier,  he  might  have  had  the  benefit  of  drawing 
a  new  settlement  of  the  lordship  and  manor  of  Waver- 
ley-Honour,  with  all  its  dependencies.  But  an  hour  of 
cool  reflection  is  a  great  matter,  when  employed  in 
weighing  the  comparative  evils  of  two  measures,  to 
neither  of  which  we  are  internally  partial.  Law-yer  Clip- 
purse  found  his  patron  involved  in  deep  study,  which 
he  was  too  respectful  to  disturb,  otherwise  than  by  pro- 
ducina;  his  paper  and  leathern  ink-case,  as  prepared  to 
minute  his  honour's  commands.  Even  this  slight  ma- 
noeuvre was  embarrassing  to  Sir  Everard,  who  felt  it  as 
a  reproach  to  his  indecision.  He  looked  at  the  attor- 
ney with  some  desire  to  issue  his  fiat,  when  the  sun, 
emerging  from  behind  a  cloud,  poured  at  once  its  cheq- 
uered light  through  the  stained  window  of  the  gloomy 
cabinet  in  which  they  were  seated.  The  baronet's  eye, 
as  he  raised  it  to  the  splendour,  fell  right  upon  the  cen- 
tral scutcheon,  impressed  with  the  same  device  which 
his  ancestor  was  said  to  have  borne  in  the  field  of  Hast- 
ings;  three  ermines  passant,  argent,  in  a  field  azure, 
with  its  appropriate  motto,  sans  tache,  "  May  our  name 
rather  perish,"  thought  Sir  Everard,  "  than  that  ancient 

2       VOL.    I. 


:.4 


AVAVERXEY. 


and  loyal  symbol  should  be  blended  with  the  dishonour- 
ed insignia  of  a  traitorous  round-head  !" 

All  this  was  the  efiect  of  the  glimpse  of  a  sunbeam 
just  sufficient  to  light  Lawyer  Clippurse  to  mend  his 
pen.  The  pen  was  mended  in  vain.  The  attorney 
was  dismissed,  whh  directions  to  hold  himself  in  readi- 
ness on  the  first  summons. 

The  apparition  of  I^awyer  Clippurse  at  the  Hall  oc- 
casioned much  speculation  in  that  portion  of  the  world 
to  which  Waverley-Honour  formed  the  centre  :  But  the 
more  judicious  politicians  of  this  microcosm  augured 
yet  worse  consequences  to  Richard  Waverley  from  a 
movement  which  shortly  followed  his  apostacy.  This 
was  no  less  than  an  excursion  of  the  baronet  in  his  coach 
and  six,  with  four  attendants  in  rich  liveries,  to  make  a 
visit  of  some  duration  to  a  noble  peer  on  the  confines  of 
the  shire,  of  untainted  descent,  steady  tory  principles, 
and  the  happy  father  of  six  unmarried  and  accomplished 
daughters.  Sir  Everard's  reception  in  this  family  was, 
as  it  may  be  easily  conceived,  sufficiently  favourable  ; 
but  of  the  six  young  ladies,  his  taste  uniortunately  de- 
termined him  in  favour  of  Lady  Emily,  the  youngest, 
who  received  his  attentions  with  an  embarrassment  which 
showed  at  once  that  she  durst  not  dechne  them,  and 
that  they  afforded  her  any  thing  but  pleasure.  Sir  Ev- 
erard  could  not  but  perceive  something  uncommon  in 
the  restrained  emotions  which  she  testified  at  the  ad- 
vances he  hazarded  ;  but  assured  by  the  prudent  coun- 
tess that  they  were  the  natural  effects  of  a  retired  edu- 
cation, the  sacrifice  might  have  been  completed,  as 
doubtless  has  happened  in  many  similar  instances,  had 
it  not  been  for  the  courage  of  an  elder  sister,  who  re- 
vealed to  the  wealthy  suitor  that  Lady  Emily's  affections 
were  fixed  upon  a  young  soldier  of  fortune,  a  near  re- 
lation of  her  own.  Sir  Everard  manifested  great  emo- 
tion «on  receiving  this  intelligence,  which  was  confirmed 
to  him,  in  a  private  interview,  by  the  young  lady  herself, 
although  under  the  most  dreadful  apprehensions  of  her 
father's  indignation.     Honour  and  generosity  were  here- 


WAVE RLE Y 


15 


ditary  attributes  of  the  house  of  Waverley.  With  a 
grace  and  delicacy  worthy  the  hero  of  a  romance,  Sir 
Everard  withdrew  his  claim  to  the  hand  of  Lady  Emily. 
He  had  even,  before  leaving  Bandeville  Castle,  the  ad- 
dress to  extort  from  her  father  a  consent  to  her  union 
with  the  object  of  her  choice.  What  arguments  he  used 
on  this  point  cannot  exactly  be  known  ;  but  the  young 
officer  immediately  after  this  transaction  rose  in  the  army 
with  a  rapidity  far  surpassing  the  usual  pace  of  unpat- 
ronized  professional  merit,  although,  to  outward  appear- 
ance, that  was  all  he  had  to  depend  upon. 

The  shock  which  Sir  Everard  encountered  upon  this 
occasion,  although  diminished  by  the  consciousness  of 
having  acted  virtuously  and  generously,  had  its  effect 
upon  his  future  life.  His  resolution  of  marriage  had 
been  adopted  in  a  fit  of  indignation  ;  the  labour  of  court- 
ship did  not  quite  suit  the  dignified  indolence  of  his 
habits ;  he  had  but  just  escaped  the  risk  of  marrying  a 
woman  who  could  never  love  him,  and  his  pride  could 
not  be  greatly  flattered  by  the  termination  of  his  amour, 
even  if  his  heart  had  not  suffered.  The  result  of  the 
whole  matter  was  his  return  to  W^averley-Honouj^  with- 
out any  transfer  of  his  affections,  notwithstanding  the 
sighs  and  languishments  of  the  fair  tell-tale,  who  had 
revealed,  in  mere  sisterly  affection,  the  secret  of  Lady 
Emily's  attachment,  and  in  despite  of  the  nods,  winks, 
and  inuendoes  of  the  officious  lady  mother,  and  the 
grave  eulogiums  which  the  earl  pronounced  successively 
on  the  prudence,  and  good  sense,  and  admirable  dispo- 
sition of  his  first,  second,  third,  fourth,  and  fifth  daugh- 
ters. The  memory  of  his  unsuccessful  amour  was 
with  Sir  Everard,  as  with  many  more  of  his  temper,  at 
once  shy,  proud,  sensitive,  and  indolent,  a  beacon  against 
exposing  himself  to  similar  mortification,  pain,  and  fruit- 
less exertion  for  the  time  to  come.  He  continued  to 
live  at  Waverley-Honour  in  the  style  of  an  old  Enghsh 
gentleman,  of  ancient  descent  and  opulent  fortune.  His 
sister.  Miss  Rachael  Waverley,  presided  at  his  table, 
and  they  became  by  degrees   an  old  bachelor   anti    an 


16 


WAVERLEY, 


ancient  maiden  hdy^  the  gentlest  and  kindest  of  the  vo- 
taries of  cehbacy. 

The  vehemence  of  Sir  Everard's  resentment  against 
his  brother  was  but  short-hved ;  yet  his  dishke  to  the 
whig  and  the  placeman,  though  unable  to  stimulate  him 
to  resume  any  active  measures  prejudicial  to  Richard's 
interest,  continued  to  maintain  the  coldness  between, 
them.  Accident  at  length  occasioned  a  renewal  of  their 
intercourse.  Richard  had  married  a  young  woman 
of  rank,  by  whose  family  interest  and  private  fortune  he 
hoped  to  advance  his  career.  In  her  right  he  become 
possessor  of  a  manor  of  some  value,  at  the  distance  of  a 
few  miles  from  V/averley-Honour. 

Little  Edward,  the  hero  of  our  tale,  then  in  his  fifth 
year,  was  their  only  child.  It  chanced  that  the  infant 
with  his  maid  had  strayed  one  morning  to  a  mile's  dis- 
tance from  the  avenue  of  Brere-wood  Lodge,  his  fath- 
er's seat.  Their  attention  was  attracted  by  a  carriage 
drawn  by  six  stately  black  long-tailed  horses,  and  with 
as  much  carving  and  gilding  as  would  have  done  honour 
to  my  lord  mayor's.  It  was  waiting  for  the  owner,  who 
was  at  a  little  distance  inspecting  the  progress  of  a  half- 
built  farm-house.  I  know  not  whether  the  boy's  nurse 
had  been  a  Welch-woman  or  a  Scotch-woman,  or  in 
v/hat  manner  he  associated  a  shield  emblazoned  with 
three  ermines  with  the  idea  of  personal  property,  but  he 
no  sooner  beheld  this  family  emblem  than  he  stoutly 
determined  on  vindicating  his  right  to  the  splendid  ve- 
hicle on  which  it  was  displayed.  The  baronet  arrived 
v/hile  the  boy's  maid  was  in  vain  endeavouring  to  make 
him  desist  from  his  determination  to  appropriate  the 
gilded  coach  and  six.  The  rencontre  was  at  a  happy 
moment  for  Edward,  as  his  uncle  had  been  just  eyeing 
wistfully,  with  something  of  a  feeling  like  envy,  the 
chubby  boys  of  the  stout  yeoman  whose  mansion  was 
building  by  his  direction.  In  the  round-faced  rosy 
cherub  before  him,  bearing  his  eye  and  his  name,  and 
vindicating  a  hereditary  title  to  his  family,  affection,  and 
patronage,  by  means  of  a  tie  which  Sir  Everard  held  as 


AVAVERLET. 


17 


sacred  as  either  Garter  or  Blue-mantle,  Providence  seem- 
ed to  have  granted  to  him  the  very  object  best  calcu- 
lated to  fill  up  the  void  in  his  hopes  and  his  affections. 
The  child  and  his  attendant  were  sent  home  in  the  car- 
riage to  Brere-wood  Lodge,  with  such  a  message  as 
opened  to  Richard  Waverley  a  door  of  reconciliation 
with  his  elder  brother.  The  intercourse,  however,  con- 
tinued to  be  rather  formal  and  civil,  than  partaking  of 
brotherly  cordiahty  :  yet  it  was  sufficient  to  the  wishes 
of  both  parties.  Sir  Everard  obtained,  in  the  frequent 
society  of  his  little  nephew,  something  on  which  his 
hereditary  pride  might  found  the  anticipated  pleasure  of 
a  continuation  of  his  lineage,  and  on  which  his  kind  and 
gentle  affections  could  at  the  same  time  fully  exercise 
themselves.  For  Richard  Waverley,  he  beheld  in  the 
growing  attachment  between  the  uncle  and  nephew^,  the 
means  of  securing  his  son's,  if  not  his  own,  succession 
to  the  hereditary  estate,  which  he  felt  would  be  rather 
endangered  than  promoted  by  any  attempt  on  his  own 
part  towards  a  more  intimate  commerce  v/ith  a  man  of 
Sir  Everard's  habits  and  opinions. 

Thus,  by  a  sort  of  tacit  compromise,  little  Edward 
was  permitted  to  pass  the  greater  part  of  the  year  at- 
the  Hall,  and  appeared  to  stand  in  the  same  intimate 
relation  to  both  families,  although  their  intercourse  was 
otherwise  limited  to  formal  messages  and  more  formal 
visits.  The  education  of  the  youth  was  regulated  alter- 
nately by  the  taste  and  opinions  of  his  uncle  and  of  his 
father.     But  more  of  this  in  a  subsequent  chapteio 

2*       VOL.    I. 


18  AVAYERLEY 


CHAPTER  III. 

Education. 

The  education  of  our  hero,  Edward  VVaverley,  was 
of  a  nature  somewhat  desultory.  In  infancy  his  health 
suffered,  or  was  supposed  to  suffer,  (which  is  quite  the 
same  thing)  by  the  air  of  London.  As  soon,  therefore, 
as  official  duties,  attendance  on  parHament,  or  the  pros- 
ecution of  any  of  his  plans  of  interest  or  ambition,  cal- 
led his  father  to  town,  which  was  his  usual  residence 
for  eight  months  in  the  year,  Edward  was  transferred  to 
A^'averley-Honour,  and  experienced  a  change  of  instruc- 
ters  and  of  lessons,  as  well  as  of  residence.  This 
might  have  been  remedied  had  his  father  placed  him 
imder  the  superintendence  of  a  permanent  tutor.  But 
be  considered  that  one  of  his  choosing  would  probably 
have  been  unacceptable  at  Waverley-Honour,  and  that 
such  a  selection  as  Sir  Everard  might  have  made,  were 
the  matter  left  to  him,  would  have  burdened  him  with 
a  disagreeable  inmate,  if  not  a  political  spy,  in  his  fam- 
ily. He  therefore  prevailed  upon  his  private  secretary, 
a  young  man  of  taste  and  accomplishments,  to  bestow  an 
hour  or  two  on  Edward's  education  while  at  Brere-wood 
Lodge,  and  left  his  uncle  answerable  for  his  improve- 
ment in  literature  while  an  inmate  at  the  Hall. 

This  was  in  some  degree  respectably  provided  for. 
Sir  Everard's  chaplain,  an  Oxonian,  who  had  lost  his 
fellowship  for  declining  to  lake  the  oaths  at  the  accession 
of  George  I.  was  not  only  an  excellent  classical  scholar, 
but  reasonably  skilled  in  science,  and  master  of  most 
modern  languages.  He  was,  however,  old  and  indulgent, 
and  the  recurring  interregnum,  during  which  Edward  was 
entirely  freed  from  his  discipline,  occasioned  such  a  re- 


WAVE  RLE  Y.  19 

laxation  of  authority,  that  the  youth  was  permitted,  in  a 
great  measure,  to  learn  as  he  pleased,  what  he  pleased, 
and  when  he  pleased.  This  looseness  of  rule  would 
have  been  ruinous  to  a  boy  of  slow  understanding,  who, 
feeling  labour  in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  would 
have  altogether  neglected  it,  save  for  the  command  of  a 
task-master  ;  and  it  might  have  proved  equally  dangerous 
to  a  youth  whose  animal  spirits  were  more  powerful  than 
his  imagination  or  his  feelings,  and  whom  the  irresistible 
influence  of  Alma,  when  seated  in  his  arms  and  legs, 
would  have  engaged  in  field  sports,  from  morning  till 
night.  But  the  character  of  Edward  Waverley  was  re- 
mote from  either  of  these.  His  powers  of  apprehension 
were  so  uncommonly  quick,  as  almost  to  resemble  intui- 
tion, and  the  chief  care  of  his  preceptor  was  to  prevent 
him,  as  a  sportsman  would  phrase  it,  from  over-running 
his  game,  that  is,  from  acquiring  his  knowledge  in  a  slight, 
flimsy,  and  inadequate  manner.  And  here  the  instructer 
had  to  combat  another  propensity  too  often  united  with 
"brilhancy  of  fancy  and  vivacity  of  talent, — that  indolence, 
namely,  of  disposition,  which  can  only  be  stirred  by  some 
strong  motive  of  gratification,  and  which  renounces  study 
so  soon  as  curiosity  is  gratified,  the  pleasure  of  conquer- 
ing the  first  difficulties  exhausted,  and  the  novelty  of 
pursuit  at  an  end.  Edward  would  throw  himself  with 
spirit  upon  any  classical  author  of  which  his  preceptor 
proposed  the  perusal,  make  himself  master  of  the  style 
so  far  as  to  understand  the  story,  and  if  that  pleased  or 
interested  him,  he  finished  the  volum.e.  Bat  it  was  in 
vain  to  attempt  fixing  his  attention  on  critical  distinctions 
of  philology,  upon  the  difference  of  idiom,  the  beauty 
of  fehcitous  expression,  or  the  artificial  combinations  of 
syntax.  "  I  can  read  and  understand  a  Latin  author," 
said  young  Edward,  with  the  self-confidence  and  rash 
reasoning  of  fifteen,  "  and  Scaliger  or  Bentley  could  not 
do  much  more."  Alas  !  while  he  was  thus  permitted  to 
read  only  for  the  gratification  of  his  own  amusement,  he 
foresaw  not  that  he  was  losing  for  ever  the  opportunity 
of  acquiring   habits  of  firm   and  incumbent   application, 


20  WAVERLEY. 

of  gaining  the  art  of  controlling,  directing,  and  concen- 
trating the  powers  of  his  own  mind  for  earnest  investi- 
gation,— an  art  far  more  essential  than  even  that  learning 
which  is  the  primary  object  of  study. 

I  am  aware  I  may  be  here  reminded  of  the  necessity 
of  rendering  instruction  agreeable  to  youth,  and  of  Tas- 
so's  infusion  of  honey  into  the  medicine  prepared  for  a 
child  ;  but  an  age  in  which  children  are  taught  the  driest 
doctrines  by  the  insinuating  method  of  instructive  games, 
has  httle  reason  to  dread  the  consequences  of  study  being 
rendered  too  serious  or  severe.  The  History  of  England 
is  now  reduced  to  a  game  at  cards,  the  problems  of 
mathematics  to  puzzles  and  riddles,  and  the  doctrines  of 
arithmetic  may,  we  are  assured,  be  sufficiently  acquired 
by  spending  a  few  hours  a-week  at  a  new  and  comphcat- 
ed  edition  of  the  Royal  Game  of  the  Goose.  There 
wants  but  one  step  further,  and  the  Creed  and  Ten 
Commandments  may  be  taught  in  the  same  manner, 
without  the  necessity  of  the  grave  face,  deliberate  tone 
of  recital,  and  devout  attention  hitherto  exacted  from  the 
well-governed  childhood  of  this  realm.  It  may  in  the 
mean  time  be  subject  of  serious  consideration,  whether 
those  who  are  -accustomed  only  to  acquire  instruction 
through  the  medium  of  amusement,  may  not  be  brought 
to  reject  that  which  approaches  under  the  aspect  of 
study  ;  whether  those  who  learn  history  by  the  cards, 
may  not  be  led  to  prefer  the  means  to  the  end  ;  and 
whether,  were  we  to  teach  religion  in  the  way  of  sport, 
our  pupils  might  not  thereby  be  gradually  induced  to 
make  sport  of  their  religion.  To  our  young  hero,  wlio 
was  permitted  to  seek  his  instruction  only  according  to 
the  bent  of  his  own  mind,  and  who,  of  consequence,  only 
sought  it  so  long  as  it  afforded  him  amusement,  the  in- 
dulgence of  his  tutors  was  attended  with  evil  consequen- 
ces, which  long  continued  to  influence  his  character, 
happiness,  and  utility.  Edward's  power  of  imagination 
and  love  of  literature,  although  the  former  was  vivid,  and 
the  latter  ardent,  were  so  far  from  affording  a  remedy- 
to  this  peculiar   evil,  that  tliey   rather   inflamed  and  in- 


TVAVERXEY.  21 

creaseci  its  violence.  The  library  at  Waverley-Honour, 
a  large  Gothic  room,  with  double  arches  and  a  gallery, 
contained  that  miscellaneous  and  extensive  collection  ot* 
volumes  usually  assembled  together,  during  the  course  of 
two  hundred  years,  by  a  family  which  have  been  always 
wealthy,  and  inchned  of  course,  as  a  mark  of  splendour, 
to  furnish  their  shelves  with  the  current  literature  of  the 
day,  without  much  scrutiny  or  nicety  of  discrimination. 
Through  this  ample  rea.m  Edward  was  permitted  to 
roam  at  large.  His  tutor  had  his  own  studies  ;  and 
church  pohtics  and  controversial  divinity,  together  with 
a  love  of  learned  ease,  though  they  did  not  withdraw  his 
attention  at  stated  times  from  the  progress  of  his  patron's 
presumptive  heu',  induced  him  readily  to  grasp  at  any 
apology  for  not  extending  a  strict  and  regulated  survey 
towards  his  general  studies.  Sir  Everard  had  never 
been  himself  a  student,  and,  like  his  sister  Miss  Rachael 
Waverley,  held  the  vulgar  doctrine,  that  idleness  is  in- 
compatible with  reading  of  any  kind,  and  that  the  mere 
tracing  the  alphabetical  characters  with  the  eye,  is  in 
itself  a  useful  and  meritorious  task,  without  scrupulously 
considering  what  ideas  or  doctrines  they  may  happen  to 
convey.  Widi  a  desire  of  amusement  therefore,  which 
better  disciphne  might  soon  have  converted  into  a  thirst 
for  knowledge,  young  Waverley  drove  through  the  sea 
of  books,  Hke  a  vessel  without  a  pilot  or  a  rudder. 
Nothing  perhaps  increases  by  indulgence  more  than  a 
desultory  habit  of  reading,  especially  under  such  oppor- 
tunities of  gratifying  it.  I  believe  one  reason  why  such 
numerous  instances  of  erudition  occur  among  the  lower 
rank  is,  that,  with  the  same  powers  of  mind,  the  poor 
student  is  limited  to  a  narrow  circle  for  indulging  his 
passion  for  books,  and  must  necessarily  make  himself 
master  of  the  few  he  possesses  ere  he  can  acquire  more. 
Edward,  on  the  contrary,  like  the  epicure  who  only 
deigned  to  take  a  single  morsel  from  the  sunny  side  of  a 
peach,  read  no  volume  a  moment  after  it  ceased  to  excite 
his  curiosity  or  interest  ;  and  it  necessarily  happened, 
that  the  habit  of  seeking  only  this   sort  of  gratification 


22  W  AVE  RLE  Y. 

rendered  it  daily  more  difficult  of  attainment,  till  the 
passion  for  reading,  like  other  strong  appetites,  produced 
by  indulgence  a  sort  of  satiety. 

Ere  he  attained  this  indifference,  however,  he  had  read 
over,  and  stored  in  a  memory  of  uncommon  tenacity, 
much  curious,  though  ill-arranged  and  miscellaneous  in- 
formation. In  English  literature  he  was  master  of  Shak- 
speare  and  Milton,  of  our  earlier  dramatic  authors,  of 
many  picturesque  and  interesting  passages  from  our  old 
historical  chronicles,  and  particularly  of  Spenser,  Drayton, 
and  other  poets  who  have  exercised  themselves  on  ro- 
mantic fiction,  of  all  themes  the  most  fascinating  to  a 
youthful  imagination,  before  the  passions  have  roused 
themselves,  and  demand  poetry  of  a  more  sentimental 
description.  In  this  respect  his  acquaintance  with  the 
Italian  opened  him  yet  a  wider  range.  }le  had  perused 
the  numerous  romantic  poems,  w'hich,  from  the  days  of 
Pulci,  have  been  a  favourite  exercise  of  the  wits  of  Italy, 
and  had  sought  gratification  in  the  numerous  collections 
of  novelle  wdiich  were  brought  forth  by  the  genius  of 
that  elegant  though  luxurious  nation,  in  emulation  of  the 
Decameron.  In  classical  literature,  Waverley  had  made 
the  usual  progress,  and  read  the  usual  authors  ;  and  the 
French  had  afforded  him  an  almost  exhauslless  collection 
of  memoirs,  scarcely  more  faithful  than  romances,  and  of 
romances  so  w^ell  written  as  hardly  to  be  distinguished 
from  memoirs.  The  splendid  pages  of  Froissart,  with 
his  heart-stirring  and  eye-dazzling  description  of  war  and 
of  tournaments,  were  among  his  chief  favourites  ;  and 
from  those  of  Brantome  and  De  la  Noue  he  learned  to 
compare  the  wild  and  loose,  yet  superstitious  character 
of  the  nobles  of  the  League,  with  the  stern,  rigid,  and 
sometimes  turbulent  disposition  of  the  Huguenot  party. 
The  Spanish  had  contributed  to  his  stock  of  chivalrous 
and  romantic  lore.  The  earlier  literature  of  the  northern 
nations  did  not  escape  the  study  of  one  who  read,  rather 
to  awaken  the  imagination  than  to  benefit  the  understand- 
ing." And  yet,  knowing  much  that  is  known  but  to  few, 
Edward  Waverley  might  justly  be  considered  as  ignorant, 


WAVERIEY.  23 

since  he  knew  little  of  what  adds  dignity  to  man,  and 
quahfies  him  to  support  and  adorn  an  elevated  situation 
in  society. 

The  occasional  attention  of  his  parents  might  indeed 
have  been  of  service  to  prevent  the  dissipation  of  mind 
incidental  to  such  a  desultory  course  of  reading.  But 
Mrs.  Richard  Waverley  died  in  the  seventh  year  after 
the  reconciliation  between  the  brothers,  and  Waverley 
himself,  who  after  this  event  resided  more  constantly  in 
London,  was  too  much  interested  in  his  own  plans  of 
wealth  and  ambition,  to  notice  more  respecting  Edward 
than  that  he  was  of  a  very  bookish  turn,  and  probably 
destined  to  be  a  bishop.  If  he  could  have  discovered 
and  analyzed  his  son's  waking  dreams,  he  would  have 
formed  a  very  different  conclusion. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Castle-Buildino'. 


o 


I  HAVE  already  hinted  that  the  dainty,  squeamish,  and 
fastidious  taste  acquired  by  a  surfeit  of  idle  reading,  had 
not  only  rendered  our  hero  unfit  for  serious  and  sober 
study,  but  had  even  disgusted  him  in  some  degree  with 
that  in  which  he  had  hitherto  indulged.  He  was  in  his 
sixteenth  year  when  his  habits  of  abstraction  and  love  of 
solitude  became  so  much  marked  as  to  excite  Sir  Eve- 
rard's  affectionate  apprehension.  He  tried  to  counter- 
balance these  propensities,  by  engaging  his  nephew  in 
field-sports,  which  had  been  the  chief  pleasure  of  his 
own  youth.  But  although  Edward  eagerly  carried  the 
gun  for  one  season,  yet  when  practice  had  given  him 
some  dexterity,  the  pastime  ceased  to  afford  him  amuse- 
ment. In  the  succeeding  sprins;  the  perusal  of  old  Isaac 
Walton's  fascinating  volume,  determined  Edward  to  be- 


214  WAYERLET. 

come  "  a  brother  of  the  angle."  But  of  all  diversions 
which  ingenuity  ever  devised  for  the  relief  of  idleness, 
fishing  is  the  worst  qualified  to  amuse  a  man  who  is  at 
once  indolent  and  impatient,  and  our  hero's  rod  was 
speedily  flung  aside.  Society  and  example,  which,  more 
than  any  other  motives,  master  and  sway  the  natural  bent 
of  our  passions,  might  have  had  their  usual  effect  upon 
our  youthful  visionary.  But  the  neighbourhood  was 
thinly  inhabited,  and  the  home-bred  young  squires  whom 
it. afforded,  were  not  of  a  class  fit  to  form  Edward's  usual 
companions,  far  less  to  excite  him  to  emulate  them  in 
the  practice  of  those  pastimes  which  composed  the  se- 
rious business  of  their  hves.  Sir  Everard  had,  upon 
the  death  of  Queen  Anne,  resigned  his  seat  in  parliament, 
and,  as  his  age  increased  and  the  number  of  his  contem- 
poraries diminished,  gradually  withdrawn  himself  from 
society ;  so  that,  when,  upon  any  particular  occasion, 
Eduard  mingled  with  accomplished  and  well-educated 
young  men  of  his  own  rank  and  expectations,  he  felt  an 
inferiority  in  their  company,  not  so  much  from  deficiency 
of  information,  as  from  the  want  of  the  skill  to  command 
and  to  arrange  that  which  he  possessed.  A  deep  and 
increasing  sensibility  added  to  this  dislike  of  society. 
The  idea  of  having  committed  the  slightest  solecism  in 
politeness,  whether  real  or  imaginary,  was  agony  to  him  : 
for  perhaps  even  guilt  itself  does  not  impose  upon  some 
minds  so  keen  a  sense  of  shame  and  remorse  as  a  mod- 
est, sensitive,  and  inexperienced  youth  feels  from  the 
consciousness  of  having  neglected  etiquette,  or  excited 
ridicule.  Where  we  are  not  at  ease,  we  cannot  be  hap- 
py ;  and  therefore  it  is  not  surprising,  that  Edward  Wa- 
rerley  supposed  that  he  disliked  and  was  unfitted  for 
society,  m.erely  because  he  had  not  yet  acquired  the 
habit  of  living  in  it  with  ease  and  comfort,  and  of  recip- 
rocally giving  and  receiving  pleasure.  The  hours  he 
spent  with  his  uncle  and  aunt  were  exhausted  in  listening 
to  the  oft-repeated  tale  of  narrative  old  age.  Yet  even 
there  his  imagination,  the  predominant  faculty  of  his 
mind,  was   frequently   excited.      Family  tradition   and 


WAVEULET. 


25 


genealogical  history,  upon  which  much  of  Sir  Everard's 
discourse  turned,  is  the  very  reverse  of  amber,  which 
itself  a  valuable  substance,  usually  includes  flies,  straw.s 
and  other  trifles,  whereas  these  studies,  being  themselves 
very  insignificant  and  trifling,  do  nevertheless  serve  to 
perpetuate  a  great  deal  of  what  is  rare  and  valuable  in 
ancient  manners,  and  to  record  many  curious  and  minute 
facts  which  could  have  been  preserved  and  conveyed 
through  no  other  medium.  If,  therefore,  Edward  Waver- 
ley  yawned  at  times  over  the  dry  deduction  of  his  hue 
of  ancestors,  with  their  various  intermarriages,  and  in- 
wardly deprecated  the  remorseless  and  protracted  accu- 
racy with  which  the  worthy  Sir  Everard  rehearsed  the 
various  degrees  of  propinquity  between  the  house  of 
Waverley-Honour  and  the  doughty  barons,  knights,  and 
squires,  to  whom  they  stood  allied  ;  if  (notwhhstanding 
his  obligations  to  the  three  ermines  passant)  he  sometime? 
cursed  in  his  heart  the  jargon  of  heraldry,  its  griflins, 
its  moldwarps,  its  wiverns,  and  its  dragons,  with  all  the 
bitterness  of  Hotspur  himself,  there  were  moments  when 
these  communications  interested  his  fancy  and  rewarded 
his  attention.  The  deeds  of  Wilibert  of  Waverley  in  the 
Holy  Land,  his  long  absence  and  perilous  adventures, 
his  supposed  death,  and  his  return  on  the  evening  when 
the  betrothed  of  hi^  heart  had  wedded  the  hero  who  had 
protected  her  from  insult  and  oppression  during  his  ab- 
sence ;  the  generosity  with  which  the  crusader  relinquish- 
ed his  claims,  and  sought  in  a  neighbouring  cloister  that 
peace  which  passeth  not  away  ;  to  these  and  similar  tales 
he  would  hearken  till  his  heart  flowed  and  his  eye  glis- 
tened. Nor  was  he  less  affected,  when  his  aunt,  Mrs. 
Rachael  narrated  the  sufferings  and  fortitude  of  Lady 
Alice  Waverley  during  the  great  civil  war.  The  benevo- 
lent features  of  the  venerable  spinster  kindled  into  a  more 
majestic  expression  as  she  told  how  Charles  had,  after  the 
field  of  Worcester,  found  a  day's  refuge  at  Waverley- 
Honour,  and  hov*',  when  a  troop  of  cavalry  were  ap- 
proaching to  search  the  mansion.  Lady  Alice  dismissed 

3       VOL.    I. 


;6 


AVAVERLEY. 


her  youngest  son  with  a  handful  of  domestics,  charging 
them  to  make  good  with  their  Hves  an  hour's  diversion, 
that  the  king  might  have  that  space  for  escape.      "  And, 
God  help  her,"  would  Mrs.  Rachael  continue,  fixing  her 
eyes  upon  the  heroine's  portrait  as  she  spoke,  "  full  dearly 
did  she  purchase   the   safety  of  her   prince  with  the  hfe 
of  her  darling  child.     They  brought  him  here  a  prisoner, 
mortally  wounded,  and  you   may  trace  the  drops  of  his 
blood  from  the  great  hall-door,  along  the  little  gallery,  and 
up  to  the  saloon,  where  they  laid  him  down  to  die  at  bis 
mother's  feet.     But  there   was   comfort  exchanged  be- 
tween them  ;  for  he  knew  from  the  glance  of  his  mother's 
eye  that  the  purpose  of  his  desperate  defence  was  attain- 
ed— Ah  !  I  remember,"   she   continued,    "  I  "remember 
well  to  have  seen  one  that   knew  and  loved   him.     Miss 
Lucy   St.   Aubin   lived   and   died  a  maid   for  his  sake, 
though  one  of  the  most   beautiful  and   wealthy  matches 
in  this  country  ;  all  the   country  ran  after  her,  but  she 
wore  widow's  mourning  all  her  hfe  for  poor  William,  for 

they  were  betrothed  though  not  married,  and  died  in 

I  cannot  think  of  the  date  ;  but  I  remember,  in  the 
November  of  that  very  year,  when  she  found  herself 
sinking,  she  desired  to  be  brought  to  Waverley-Honour 
once  more,  and  visited  all  the  places  v.here  she  had  been 
with  ray  grand-uncle,  and  caused  th» carpets  to  be  raised 
that  she  might  trace  the  impression  of  his  blood,  and  if 
tears  could  have  washed  it  out,  it  !iad  not  been  there 
now  ;  for  there  was  not  a  dry  eye  in  the  house.  You 
would  have  thought,  Edward,  that  the  very  trees  mourned 
for  her,  for  their  leaves  dropped  around  her  without  a 
gust  of  wind  ;  and  indeed  she  looked  hke  one  that  would 
never  see  them  green  again." 

From  such  legends  our  hero  would  steal  away  to  in- 
dulge the  fancies  they  excited.  In  the  corner  of  the 
large  and  sombre  library,  with  no  other  hglit  than  was 
afforded  by  the  decaying  brands  on  its  ponderous  and 
ample  heartli,  he  would  exercise  for  hours  that  internal 
sorcery  by  which  past  or  imaginary  events  are  present- 
ed in  action,  as  it  were,  to  the  eye  of  the  muser.     Then 


AVAVERLET. 


27 


arose  in  long  and  fair  array  the  splendour  of  the  bridal 
least  at  Waverley-Castle  ;  the  tall  and  emaciated  form 
of  its  real  lord,  as  he  stood  in  his  pilgrim's  weeds,  an 
unnoticed  spectator  of  the  festivities  of  his  supposed  heir 
and  intended  bride  ;  the  electrical  shock  occasioned  by 
the  discovery  ;  the  springing  of  the  vassals  to  arms  ;  the 
astonishment  of  the  bridegroom  ;  the  terror  and  confu- 
sion of  the  bride ;  the  agony  with  which  Wilibert  ob- 
served, that  her  heart  as  well  as  consent  was  in  these 
nuptials  ;  the  air  of  dignity,  yet  of  deep  feeling,  whh 
which  he  flung  down  tiie  half-drawn  sword,  and  turned 
away  for  ever  from  the  house  of  his  ancestors.  Then 
would  he  change  the  scene,  and  fancy  would  at  his  wish 
present  Aunt  Rachael's  tragedy.  He  saw  the  Lady 
Waverley  seated  in  her  bower,  her  ear  strained  to  every 
sound,  her  heart  throbbing  with  double  agony ;  now 
listening  to  the  decaying  echo  of  the  hoofs  of  the  king's 
horse,  and  when  that  had  died  away,  hearing  in  every 
breeze  that  shook  the  trees  of  the  park,  the  noise  of  the 
remote  skirmish.  A  distant  sound  is  heard  like  the 
rushing  of  a  swollen  stream  ;  it  comes  nearer,  and  Ed- 
ward can  plainly  distinguish  the  galloping  of  horses,  the 
cries  and  shouts  of  men,  with  straggling  pistol-shots  be- 
tween, rolling  forwards  to  the  hall.  The  lady  starts 
up — a  terrified  menial  rushes  in — But  why  pursue  such 
a  description. 

As  hving  in  this  ideal  world  became  daily  more  de- 
lectable to  our  hero,  interruption  was  disagreeable  in 
proportion.  The  extensive  domain  that  surrounded  the 
Hall,  which,  far  exceeding  the  dimensions  of  a  park, 
was  usually  termed  Waverley-Chase,  had  originally  been 
forest  ground,  and  still,  though  broken  by  extensive 
glades  in  which  the  young  deer  were  sporting,  retained 
its  pristine  and  savage  character.  It  was  traversed  by 
broad  avenues,  in  many  places  half-grown  up  with 
brushwood,  where  the  beauties  of  former  days  used  to 
take  their  stand  to  see  the  stag  coursed  with  greyhounds, 
or  to  gain  an  aim  at  him  with  the  cross-bow\  In  one 
spot  distinguished  by  a   moss-grown   gothic  monument, 


i^»  AVAVERLEY. 

which  retained  the  name  of  Queen's  Standing,  Eliza- 
beth herself  was  said  to  have  pierced  seven  bucks  with 
lier  own  arrows.  This  was  a  favourite  haunt  of  Edward 
AVaverley.  At  other  times,  with  his  gun  and  his  span- 
iel, which  served  as  an  apology  to  others,  and  with  a 
book  in  his'pocket,  which,  perhaps,  served  as  an  apolo- 
gy to  himself,  he  used  to  pursue  one  of  those  long  aven- 
ues, which,  after  an  ascending  sweep  of  four  miles, 
gradually  narrowed  into  a  rude  and  contracted  path 
through  the  clifiy  and  wooded  pass  called  Mirkwood 
Dingle,  and  opened  suddenly  upon  a  deep,  dark,  arwl 
small  lake,  named  from  the  same  cause,  Mirkwood- 
Ivlere.  There  stood  in  former  times  a  sohtary  tower 
upon  a  rock  almost  surrounded  by  the  water,  which  had 
acquire^d  the  name  of  the  Strength  of  Waverley,  be- 
cause, in  perilous  times,  it  had  often  been  the  refuge  of 
the  family.  There,  in  the  wars  of  York  and  Lancas- 
ter, the  last  adherents  of  the  Red  Rose  who  dared  to 
maintain  her  cause,  carried  on  a  harassing  and  preda- 
tory warfare,  till  the  strong-hold  was  reduced  by  the 
celebrated  Richard  of  Gloucester.  Here,  too,  a  party 
of  cavaliers  long  maintained  themselves  under  Nigel 
Waverley,  elder  brother  of  that  William,  whose  fate 
Aunt  Rachael  commemorated.  Through  these  scenes 
it  was  that  Edward  loved  to  "  chew  the  cud  of  sweet 
and  bitter  fancy,"  and,  like  a  child  among  his  toys,  cul- 
led and  arranged,  from  the  splendid  yet  useless  imagery 
and  emblems  with  which  his  imagination  was  stored, 
visions  as  brilliant  and  as  fading  as  those  of  an  evening 
sky.  The  effect  of  this  indulgence  upon  his  temper  and 
character  will  appear  in  the  next  chapter. 


WAVERLET. 


29 


CHAPTER  V. 

Choke  of  a  Profession. 

From  the  minuteness  with  which  1  have  traced 
\Vaverley's  pursuits,  and  the  basis  which  these  unavoid- 
ably communicated  to  his  imagination,  the  reader  may 
perhaps  anticipate,  in  the  following  tale,  an  imitation  of 
the  romance  of  Cervantes.  But  he  wull  do  my  pru- 
dence injustice  in  the  supposition.  My  intention  is  not 
to  follow  the  steps  of  that  inimitable  author,  in  describ- 
ing such  total  perversion  of  intellect  as  misconstrues  the 
objects  actually  presented  to  the  senses,  but  that  more 
common  aberration  from  sound  judgment,  which  appre- 
hends occurrences  indeed  in  their  reality,  but  communi- 
cates to  them  a  tincture  of  its  own  romantic  tone  and 
colouring.  So  far  was  Edward  Waverley  from  expect- 
ing general  sympathy  with  his  oun  feelings,  or  conclud- 
ing that  the  present  state  of  things  was  calculated  to  ex- 
hil3it  the  reality  of  those  visions  in  which  he  loved  to 
indulge,  that  he  dreaded  nothing  more  than  the  detec- 
tion of  such  sentiments  as  were  dictated  by  his  musings. 
He  neither  had  nor  wished  to  have  a  confidant,  with 
whom  to  communicate  his  reveries  ;  and  so  sensible  was 
he  of  the  ridicule  attached  to  them,  that,  had  he   beer 

0  choose   between   any  nunishment   short  of  ignominy. 

•nd  the  necessity  of  giiving  a  cold  and  composed:  ac- 
count of  the  ideal  world  in  which  he  lived  the  betrcr 
part  of  his  days,  I  think  he  would  not  have  hesitated  to 
choose  the  former  infliction.  This  secrecy  became 
doubly  precious,  as  he  felt  in  advancing  life  the  influence 
of  the  awakening  passions.  Female  forms  of  exquisite 
grace  and  beauty  began  to  mingle  in  his  mental  adve-j- 

3*       VOL.    I. 


30  WAVERLEY. 

tures  ;  nor  was  he  long  without  looking  abroad  to  com- 
pare the  creatures  of  his  own  imagination  with  the 
females  of  actual  life.  The  hst  of  the  beauties  who 
displayed  their  hebdomadal  finery  at  the  parish  church 
of  Waverley,  was  neither  numerous  nor  select.  By  far 
the  most  passable  was  Miss  Sissly,  or,  as  she  rather 
chose  to  be  called,  Miss  Cecilia  Stubbs,  daughter  of 
Squire  Stubbs  at  the  Grange.  1  know  not  whether  it 
was  by  the  "merest  accident  in  the  world,"  a  phrase 
which  from  female  lips  does  not  always  exclude  malice 
prepense^  or  whether  it  was  from  a  conformity  of  taste, 
that  Miss  Cecilia  more  than  once  crossed  Edward  in 
his  favourite  walks  through  Waverley-Chase.  He  had 
not  as  yet  assumed  courage  to  accost  her  on  these  oc- 
casions ;  but  the  meeting  was  not  without  its  effect.  A 
romantic  lover  is  a  strange  idolater,  who  sometimes  cares 
not  out  of  what  log  he  frames  the  object  of  his  adora- 
tion ;  at  least,  if  nature  has  given  that  object  any  passa- 
ble proportion  of  personal  charms,  he  can  easily  play 
the  Jeweller  and  Dervise  in  the  oriental  tale,*  and  sup- 
ply her  richly,  out  of  the  stores  of  his  own  imagination, 
with  supernatural  beauty,  and  all  the  properties  of  in- 
tellectual wealth.  But  ere  the  charms  of  Miss  CeciHa 
Stubbs  had  erected  her  into  a  positive  goddess,  or  ele- 
vated her  at  least  to  a  level  with  the  saint  her  namesake, 
Mrs.  Rachael  Waverley  gained  some  intimation  which 
determined  her  to  prevent  the  approaching  apotheo- 
sis. Even  the  most  simple  and  unsuspicious  of  the  fe- 
male sex  have  (God  bless  them  !)  an  instinctive  sharp- 
ness of  perception  in  such  matters,  which  sometimes 
goes  the  length  of  observing  p^'tiahties  that  never  ex- 
isted, but  rarely  misses  to  detect  such  as  pass  actually 
under  their  observation.  Mrs.  Rachael  applied  herself, 
with  great  prudence,  not  to  combat,  but  to  elude,  the 
approaching  danger,  and  suggested  to  her  brother  the 
necessity  that  the  heir  of  his  house  should  see  some- 
thing more  of  the   world,  than  was  consistent  with  con- 

*  See  Hcjipner's  T^^^i  of  the  Seven  Lovers. 


WAVE  RLE  Y.  31 

stant  residence  at  Waverley-Honour.  Sir  Everard  would 
not  at  first  listen  to  a  proposal  which  went  to  separate 
his  nephew  from  him.  Edward  was  a  htlle  bookish,  he 
admitted  ;  but  youth,  he  had  ahvays  heard,  was  the 
season  for  learning,  and,  no  doubt,  when  his  rage  for 
letters  was  abated,  and  his  head  fully  stocked  with 
knowledge,  his  nephew  would  take  to  field-sports  and 
country  business.  He  had  often,  he  said,  himself  re- 
gretted that  he  had  not  spent  some  time  in  study  during 
his  youth  :  he  would  neither  have  shot  or  hunted  with 
less  skill,  and  he  might  have  made  the  roof  of  St.  Ste- 
phen's echo  to  longer  orations  than  were  comprised  in 
those  zealous  Noes,  w^ith  which,  when  a  member  of  the 
house  during  Godolpbin's  administration,  he  encounter- 
ed every  measure  of  government. 

Aunt  Rachael's  anxiety,  however,  lent  her  address  to 
carry  her  point.  Every  representative  of  their  house 
had  visited  foreign  parts,  or  served  his  country  in  the 
army,  before  he  settled  for  life  at  Waverley-Honour, 
and  she  appealed  for  the  truth  of  her  assertion  to  the 
genealogical  pedigree,  an  authority  which  Sir  Everard 
was  never  known  to  contradict.  In  short,  a  proposal 
was  made  to  ^Ir.  Richard  Waverley  that  his  son  should 
travel,  under  the  direction  of  his  present  tutor,  Mr. 
Pembroke,  with  a  suitable  allowance  from  the  baronet's 
liberality.  He  saw  no  objection  to  this  overture ;  but 
upon  mentioning  it  casually  at  the  table  of  the  minister, 
the  great  man  looked  grave.  The  reason  was  explain- 
ed in  private.  The  unhappy  turn  of  Sir  Everard's 
politics,  the  minister  observed,  was  such  as  would  render 
it  highly  improper  that  a  young  gentleman  of  such  hope- 
ful prospects  should  travel  on  the  continent  with  a  tutor 
doubtless  of  his  uncle's  choosing,  and  directing  his  course 
by  his  instructions.  What  might  Mr.  Edward  Waver- 
ley's  society  be  at  Paris,  what  at  Rome,  where  all  man- 
ner of  snares  were  spread  by  the  Pretender  and  his  sons  ; 
these  were  points  for  Mr.  Waverley  to  consider.  This 
he  could  himself  say,  that  he  knew  his  majesty  had 
such  a  just  sense  of  Mr.    Richard  W^averley's    merits, 


32  WAVE  RLE  Y. 

that  if  his  son  adopted  the  army  for  a  few  years,  a 
troop,  he  beheved,  might  be  reckoned  upon  in  one  of 
the  dragoon  regiments  lately  returned  from  Flanders. 
A  hint  thus  conveyed  and  enforced,  was  not  to  be  neg- 
lected with  impunity  ;  and  Richard  Waverley,  though 
with  great  dread  of  shocking  his  brother's  prejudices, 
deemed  he  could  not  avoid  accepting  the  commission 
thus  offered  him  for  his  son.  The  truth  is,  he  calculat- 
ed much,  and  justly,  upon  Sir  Everard's  fondness  for 
Edward,  which  was  unlikely  to  resent  any  step  that  he 
might  take  in  due  submission  to  parental  authority. 
Two  letters  announced  this  determination  to  the  baronet 
and  his  nephew.  The  latter  barely  communicated  the 
fact,  and  pointed  out  the  necessary  preparations  for 
joining  his  regiment.  To  his  brother,  Richard  was  more 
diffuse  and  circuitous.  He  coincided  with  him  in  the 
most  flattering  manner  in  the  propriety  of  his  son's  see- 
ing a  little  more  of  the  world,  and  was  even  humble  in 
expressions  of  gratitude  for  his  proposed  assistance ; 
was,  however  deeply  concerned  that  it  was  now,  unfor- 
tunately, not  in  Edward's  power  exactly  to  comply  v,-ith 
the  plan  which  had  been  chalked  out  by  his  best  friend' 
and  benefactor.  He  himself  had  thought  with  pain  on 
the  boy's  inactivity,  at  an  age  when  all  his  ancestors  had 
borne  arms ;  even  Royalty  himself  had  deigned  to  in- 
quire whether  young  Waverley  was  not  nov/  in  Flanders, 
at  an  age  when  his  grandfather  Vv'as  already  bleeding  for 
his  king,'i^the  great  Civil  War.  This  was  accompa- 
nied by  an  offer  of  a  troop  of  horse.  What  could  he  do  ? 
There  was  no  time  to  consult  his  brother's  inclinations, 
even  if  he  could  have  conceived  there  might  be  objec- 
tions on  his  part  to  his  nephew's  following  the  glorious 
career  of  his  predecessors.  And,  in  short,  that  Edward 
was  now  (the  intermediate  steps  of  cornet  and  lieuten- 
ant being  overleapt  with  2;reat  agility)  Captain  Waver- 
ley, of  the regiment  of  Dragoons,  which  he  must 

join  in  their  quarters  at  D in  Scotland,  in  the  course 

of  a  month. 


WAVE  RLE  Y.  33 

Sir  Everard  Waverley  received  this  intimation  with  a 
mixture  of  feelings.       At  the  period  of  the  Hanoverian 
succession,  he  had    withdrawn  from   parhament,  and  his 
conduct,  in  the  memorable  yeiar  1715,  had  not  been  al- 
together unsuspected.       There  were  reports  of  private 
musters  of  tenants   and   horses  in  Waverley-Chase   by 
moonlight,  and  of  cases  of  carbines  and  pistols  purcha.s- 
ed  in  Holland,  and  addressed  to  the  baronet,  but  inter- 
cepted by  the  vigilance  of  a  riding  officer  of  the  excise, 
who  was  afterwards  tossed   in  a  blanket   on  a  moonless 
night,  by  an  association  of  stout   yeomen,  for  his  offi- 
ciousness.       Nay,  it  was  even  said  that  at  the  arrest  of 
Sir  \V W ,  the  leader   of  the  tory  party,  a  let- 
ter from  Sir  Everard   was  found  in   the   pocket   of  his 
night-2:own.     But  there  was  no  overt  act  to  be  founded 
on,  and  government,  contented  with  suppressing  the  in- 
surrection of  1715,  felt  it  neither   prudent  nor   safe  to 
push  their  vengeance  farther  than  against  those  who  ac- 
tually took  up  arms.      Nor  did  Sir  Everard's  apprehen- 
sions of  personal  consequences  seem  to  correspond  with 
the  reports  spread  among  his  whig  neighbours.     It  was 
'well  known   that  he  supplied  with  money  several  of  the 
distressed   Northumbrians   and    Scotchmen,   who,   after 
being  made   prisoners   at  Preston   in  Lancashire,  were 
imprisoned  in  Newgate  and  the  iMarshalsea,  and  it  was 
his  solicitor  and  ordinary  counsel  who  conducted  the  de- 
fence of  some  of  these   unfortunate   gentlemen  at  their 
trial.       It   was   generally  supposed,  that,  had  ministers 
possessed  any   real  proof  of  Sir  Everard's  accession  to 
the  rebellion,  he  either  would  not  have  ventured  thus  to 
brave   the  existing  government,  or   at  least  would   not 
have  done  so  with   impunity.       The  feelings,  however, 
which   then   dictated  his   proceedings,  were  those  of  a 
young  man,  and  at  an  agitating  period.     Since  that  time 
Sir  Everard's  jacobitism  had  been  gradually   decaying, 
like  a  fire  which  burns  out  for  want  of  fuel.       His  tory 
and  high-church  principles  were  kept  up  by  some  occa- 
sional exercise  at  elections,  and  quarter-sessions  ;    but 
those  respecting  hereditary  right  were  fallen  into  a  sort 


34  WAVERXEY. 

of  abeyance.  Yet  it  jarred  severely  upon  his  feelings, 
that  his  nephew  should  go  into  the  army  under  the 
Brunswick  dynasty  ;  and  the  more  so,  as,  independent 
of  his  high  and  conscientious  ideas  of  paternal  authority, 
it  was  impossible,  or  at  least  highly  imprudent,  to  inter- 
fere authoritatively  to  prevent  it.  This  suppressed  vex- 
ation gave  rise  to  many  poohs  and  pshaws,  which  were 
placed  to  the  account  of  an  incipient  fit  of  gout,  until, 
having  sent  for  the  Army  List,  the  worthy  baronet  con- 
soled himself  with  reckoning  the  descendants  of  the 
houses  of  genuine  loyalty,  Mordaunts,  Granvilles,  and 
Stanleys,  whose  names  were  to  be  found  in  that  military 
record  ;  and,  calling  up  all  his  feelings  of  family  gran- 
deur and  warlike  glory,  he  concluded,  with  logic  some- 
thing hke  FalstafF's,  that  when  war  was  at  hand,  al- 
though it  were  shame  to  be  on  any  side  but  one,  it  were 
worse  shame  to  be  idle  than  to  be  on  the  worst  side, 
though  blacker  than  rebellion  could  make  it.  As  for 
Aunt  Rachael,  her  scheme  had  not  exactly  terminated 
according  to  her  wishes,  but  she  was  under  the  necessity 
of  submitting  to  circumstances  ;  and  her  mortification 
was  diverted  by  the  em.ployment  she  found  in  fitting  out 
her  nephew  for  the  campaign,  and  greatly  consoled  by 
the  prospect  of  beholding  him  blaze  in  complete  uniform. 
Edward  Waverley  himself  received  with  animated  and 
undefined  surprise  this  most  unexpected  intelligence.  It 
was,  as  a  fine  old  poem  expresses  it,  "  like  a  fire  to 
heather  set,"  that  covers  a  solitary  hill  with  smoke,  and 
illumines  it  at  the  same  time  with  dusky  fire.  His  tutor, 
or,  I  should  say,  Mr.  Pembroke,  for  he  scarce  assumed 
the  name  of  tutor,  picked  up  about  Edward's  room  some 
fragments  of  irregular  verse,  which  he  appeared  to  have 
composed  under  the  infloence  of  the  agitating  feelings 
occasioned  by  this  sudden  page  being  turned  up  to  him 
in  the  book  of  life.  The  doctor,  who  was  a  believer  in 
all  poetry  which  was  composed  by  his  friends,  and  written 
out  in  fair  straight  lines,  with  a  capital  at  the  beginning 
of  each,  communicated  this  treasure  to  Aunt  Rachael, 
who,   with    her   spectacles   dimmed  with    tears,    trans- 


MAVERIEY.  o5 

ferred  them  to  her  common-place  book,  among  choice 
receipts  for  cookery  and  niedicine,  favourite  texts,  and 
portions  from  high-church  divines,  and  a  few  song?, 
amatory  and  jacobitical,  which  she  had  carolled  in  her 
younger  days,  from  whence  ihey  were  extracted  when 
the  volume  itself,  with  other  authentic  records  of  the 
Waverley  family,  were  exposed  to  the  inspection  of  the 
unworthy  editor  of  this  memorable  history.  If  they 
afford  the  reader  no  higher  amusement,  they  will  serve 
at  least,  better  than  narrative  of  any  kind,  to  acquaint 
him  with  the  wild  and  irregular  spirit  of  our  hero. 

Late,  when  the  Autumn  evening  fell 
On  3f  irkwood-Mere's  romantic  dell, 
The  lake  returu'd,  in  chasien'd  gleam, 
The  purple  cloud,  the  golden  beam  : 
Reflected  in  the  crystal  pool, 
Headland  and  bank  lay  fair  and  cool  : 
The  weather-tinted  reck  and  tower. 
Each  drooping  tree,  each  fairy  flower, 
So  true,  so  soft,  the  miiTor  gave. 
As  if  there  lay  beneath  the  wave. 
Secme  from  trouble,  toil,  and  care, 
A  world  than  earthly  world  more  fair. 

But  distant  winds  begem  to  wake. 
A  nd  roused  the  Genius  of  the  Lake  '. 
He  heard  the  groaning  of  the  oak, 
And  donn'd  at  once  his  sable  cloak, 
As  warrior  at  the  baitle-cry 
Invests  him  with  his  panoply  ; 
Then  as  the  whirlwind  nearer  press'd, 
He  'gan  to  shake  his  foamy  creil 
O'er  furrow'd  brow  and  blacken'd  cheek, 
And  bade  his  surge  in  thunder  speak. 
In  wild  and  broken  eddies  whirl'd. 
Flitted  that  fond  ideal  world, 
And  to  the  shore  in  tumult  tost. 
The  realms  of  fairy  bliss  were  lost. 

Yet,  with  a  stern  delight  and  strange. 
I  saw  the  spirit-stirring  change. 
As  warr'dlhe  wind  with  wave  and  wood 
L^pon  the  ruiu'd  lower  I  stoo''., 
And  fell  my  heart  more  strongly  i/cund, 
Responsive  to  tlie  lofty  sound, 


While,  joying  in  the  mighty  rear, 

I  mourn'd  that  tranquil  scene  no  more. 

So,  on  tlie  icUe  dreams  of  youth 
Breaks  the  loud  trumpet-call  of  Truth, 
Bids  each  fair  vision  pass  away, 
Like  landscapes  on  the  lake  that  lay. 
As  fair,  as  flitting,  and  as  frail, 
As  that  which  fled  the  Autumn  gale — 
Forever  dead  to  fancy's  eye 
Be  each  gay  form  that  glided  by, 
While  dreams  of  love  and  lady's  charms 
Give  place  to  honour  and  to  arms  I 

In  sober  prose,  as  perhaps  these  verses  intimate  less 
decidedly,  the  transient  idea  of  Miss  Cecilia  Stubbs 
passed  from  Captain  Waverley's  heart  amid  the  turmoil 
which  his  new  destinies  excited.  She  appeared  indeed 
in  full  splendour  in  her  father's  pew  upon  the  Sunday 
when  he  attended  service  for  the  last  time  at  the  old 
parish  church,  upon  which  occasion,  at  the  request  of 
his  uncle  and  Aunt  Rachael,  he  was  induced  (nothing 
loth,  if  the  truth  must  be  told)  to  present  himself  in  full 
uniform. 

There  is  no  better  antidote  against  entertaining  loo 
high  an  opinion  of  others,  than  having  an  excellent  one 
of  ourselves  at  the  very. same  time.  Miss  Stubbs  had 
indeed  summoned  up  every  assistance  which  art  could 
afford  to  beauty  ;  but,  alas  !  hoop,  patches,  frizzled 
locks,  and  a  new  mantua  of  genuine  French  silk,  were 
lost  upon  a  young  officer  of  dragoons,  who  wore,  for  the 
first  time,  his  gold-laced  hat,  boots,  and  broad-sword.  I 
know  not  whether,  like  the  champion  of  an  old  ballad, 

His  heart  was  all  on  honour  bent, 

He  could  not  stoop  to  love  ; 
No  lady  in  tl;e  land  had  power 

His  frozen  heart  to  move  ; — 

Or  whether  the  deep  and  flaming  bars  of  embroidered 
gold,  uhich  noA"  ienced  his  breast,  defied  the  artillery  of 
CeciUa's  eyes,  but  everv  artov/  was  launched  at  him  in 
vain. 


VrAVEIlLEY.  37 

Yet  did  I  mark  where  Cupid's  shaft  did  light  : 
It  lighted  not  on  little  western  flower, 
But  on  a  yeoman,  flower  of  all  the  west, 
Hight  Jonas  Culbertfield,  the  steward's  son. 

Craving  pardon  for  my  heroics,  (which  I  am  unable 
in  certain  cases  to  resist  giving  way  to,)  it  is  a  melan- 
choly fact,  that  my  history  must  here  take  leave  of  the 
fair  Cecilia,  who,  like  many  a  daughter  of  Eve,  after 
the  departure  of  Edward,  and  the  dissipation  of  certain 
idle  visions  which  she  hacf  adopted,  quietly  contented 
herself  with  ^  pis-aller,  and  gave  her  hand,  at  the  dis- 
tance of  six  months,  to  the  aforesaid  Jonas,  son  of  the 
baronet's  steward,  an  heir  (no  unfertile  prospect)  to  a 
steward's  fortune  ;  besides  the  snug  probabihty  of  suc- 
ceeding to  his  father's  office.  All  these  advantages 
moved  squire  Stubbs,  as  much  as  the  ruddy  brow  and 
manly  form  of  the  suitor  influenced  his  daughter,  to  abate 
somewhat  in  the  article  of  their  gentry,  and  so  the  match 
was  concluded.  None  seemed  more  gratified  than  Aunt 
Rachael,  who  had  hitherto  looked  rather  askaunce  upon 
the  presumptuous  damsel,  (as  much  so  peradventure  as 
her  nature  would  permit)  but  who,  on  the  first  appear- 
ance of  the  new-married  pair  at  church,  honoured  the 
bride  with  a  smile  and  a  profound  courtesy,  in  presence 
of  the  rector,  the  curate,  the  clerk,  and  the  whole  con- 
gregation of  the  united  parishes'  of  Waverley  cum 
Beverly. 

I  beg  pardon,  once  and  for  all,  of  those  readers  who 
take  up  novels  merely  for  amusement,  for  plaguing  them 
so  long  with  old  fashioned  politics,  and  Whig  and  Tory, 
and  Hanoverians  and  Jacobites.  The  truth  is,  I  cannot 
promise  them  that  this  story  shall  be  intelligible,  not  to 
say  probable,  without  it.  My  plan  requires  that  1  should 
explain  the  motives  on  which  its  action  proceeded,  and 
these  motives  necessarily  arose  from  the  feeiinas,  pi'eju- 
dices,  and  parties,  of  the  times.  I  do  not  invite  my  fair 
readers,  whose  sex  and  impatience  pive  them  the  Ci'- at- 
est  right  to  complain  of  these  circumstances,  into  a  fly- 

4       VOL.    I. 


38 


WAVEBLEY. 


ing  chariot  drawn  by  hyppogriffs,  or  moved  by  enchant- 
ment. Mine  is  a  Jiumble  English  post-chaise,  drawn 
upon  four  wheels,  and  keeping  his  majesty's  liighway. 
Such  as  dislike  the  vehicle  may  leave  it  at  the  next  halt, 
and  wait  for  the  conveyance  of  Prince  Hussein's  tapestry, 
or  Malek  the  Weaver's  flying  sentry-box.  Those  who 
are  contented  to  remain  with  me  will  be  occasionally 
exposed  to  the  dulness  inseparable  from  heavy  roads, 
steep  hills,  sloughs,  and  other  terrestrial  retardations  ; 
but,  with  tolerable  horses,  arid  a  civil  driver,  (as  the  ad- 
vertisements have  it)  I  also  engage  to  get  as  soon  as 
possible  into  a  more  picturesque  and  romantic  country, 
if  my  passengers  inchne  to  have  some  patience  with  me 
during  my  first  stages. 


CHAPTER   VL 

The  Adieus  of  Waverley. 

It  was  upon  the  evening  of  this  memorable  Sunday 
that  Sir  Everard  entered  the  library,  where  he  narrow- 
ly missed  surprising  our  young  hero  as  he  went  through 
the  guards  of  the  broad-sword  with  the  ancient  weapon 
of  old  Sir  Hildebrand,  which,  being  preserved  as  an 
heir-loom,  usually  hung  over  the  chimney  in  the  hbrary, 
beneath  a  picture  of  the  knight  and  his  horse,  where 
the  features  were  almost  entirely  hidden  by  the  knight's 
profusion  of  curled  hair,  and  the  Bucephalus  which  he 
bestrode  concealed  by  the  voluminous  robes  of  the  Bath 
with  which  he  was  decorated.  Sir  Everard  entered, 
and  after  a  glance  at  the  picture  and  another  at  his 
nephew,  began  a  little  speech,  which,  however,  soon 
dropt  into  the  natural  simplicity  of  his  common  manner, 
agitated  upon  the  present  occasion  by  no  common  feel- 
ing.     '•  Nephew,"  he  said  ;  and  then,  as  mending  his 


WAVERIET.  39 

phrase,  "  My  dear  Edward,  it  is  God's  will,  and  also  the 
will  of  your  father,  whom,  under  God,  it  is  your  duty 
to  obey,  that  you  should  leave  us  to  take  up  the  profes- 
sion of  arms,-  in  which  so  many  of  your  ancestors  have 
been  distinguished.  I  have  made  such  arrangements  as 
will  enable  you  to  take  the  field  as  their  descendant,  and 
as  the  probable  heir  of  the  house  of  Waverley  ;  and, 
Sir,  in  the  field  of  battle  you  will  remember  what  name 
you  bear.  iVnd,  Edward,  my  dear  boy,  remember  also 
that  you  are  the  last  of  that  race,  and  the  only  hope  of  its 
revival  depends  upon  you  ;  therefore,  as  far  as  duty  and 
honour  will  permit,  avoid  danger — I  mean  unnecessary 
danger — and  keep  no  company  with  rakes,  gamblers, 
and  whigs,  of  whom,  it  is  to  be  feared,  there  are  but  too 
many  in  the  service  into  which  you  are  going.  Your 
colonel,  as  I  am  informed,  is  an  excellent  man — for  a 
presbyterian  ;  but  you  will  remember  your  duty  to  God, 

the   Church  of  England,   and  the (this    breach 

ought  to  have  been  supphed,  according  to  the  rubric, 
with  the  word  king ;  but  as,  unfortunately,  that  word 
conveyed  a  double  and  embarrassing  sense,  one  meaning 
de  facto,  and  the  other  dejure,  the  knight  filled  up  the 
blank  otherwise) — the  church  of  England,  and  all  con- 
stituted authorities."  Then,  not  trusting  himself  with 
any  further  oratory,  he  carried  his  nephew  to  his  stables 
to  see  the  horses  he  destined  for  his  campaign.  Two 
were  black,  (the  regimental  colour)  superb  chargers  both ; 
the  other  three  were  stout  active  hacks,  designed  for  the 
road,  or  for  his  domestics,  of  whom  two  were  to  attend 
him  from  the  Hall ;  an  additional  groom,  if  necessary, 
might  be  picked  up  in  Scotland. 

"You  will  depart  with  but, a  small  retinue,"  quoth 
the  baronet,  "  compared  to  Sir  Hildebrand,  when  he 
mustered  before  the  gate  of  the  Hall  a  larger  body  of 
horse  than  your  whole  regiment  consists  of.  I  could 
have  wished  that  these  twenty  young  fellows  from  my 
estate,  who  have  enhsted  in  your  troop,  had  been  to 
march  with  you  on  your  journey  to  Scotland.  It  would 
have  been   something  at  least ;  but  I  am  told  their  at- 


40  WAVE  RLE  Y. 

tendance  would  be  thought  unusual  in  these  days,  when 
ei'ery  new  and  foolish  fashion  is  introduced  to  break  the 
natural  dependence  of  the  people  upon  their  landlords." 
Sir  Everard  had  done  his  best  to  correct  this  unnatural 
disposition  of  the  times  ;  for  he  had  brightened  the  chain 
of  attachment  between  the  recruits  and  their  young 
captain,  not  only  by  a  copious  repast  of  beef  and  ale, 
by  way  of  parting  feast,  but  by  such  a  pecuniary  donation 
to  each  individual,  as  tended  rather  to  improve  the  con- 
viviality than  the  discipline  of  their  march.  After  in- 
specting the  cav^Jry,  Sir  Everard  again  conducted  his 
nephew  to  the  library,  where  he  produced  a  letter, 
carefully  folded,  siUTounded  by  a  little  stripe  of  flox- 
silli,  according  to  ancient  form,  and  sealed  with  an  ac- 
curate impression  of  the  Waverley  coat-of-arms.  It  was 
addressed,  w:th  great  formality,  "  To  Cosmo  Comyne 
Bradwardine,  Esq.  of  Bradwardine,  at  his  principal 
mansion  of  Tully-Veolan,  in  Perthshire,  North  Britain. 
These — By  the  hands  of  Captain  Edward  Waverley, 
nephew  of  Sir  Everard  Waverley  of  Waverley-Honour, 
Bart." 

The  gentleman  to  whom  this  enormous  greeting  was 
addressed,  of  whom  we  shall  have  more  to  say  in  the 
sequel,  had  been  in  arms  for  the  exiled  family  of  Stuart 
in  the  year  1715,  and  was  made  prisoner  at  Preston, 
in  Lancashire.  He  was  a  man  of  a  very  ancient  family 
and  somewhat  embarrassed  fortune  ;  a  scholar,  accord- 
ing to  the  scholarship  of  Scotchmen,  that  is,  his  learn- 
ing was  more  diffuse  than  accurate,  and  he  was  rather  a 
reader  than  a  grammarian.  Of  his  zeal  for  the  classic 
authors,  he  is  said  to  have  given  an  uncommon  instance. 
On  the  road  between  Preston  and  London,  he  made  his 
escape  from  his  guards  ;  but  being  afterwards  found 
loitering  near  the  place  where  they  had  lodged  the  former 
night,  he  was  recognized  and  again  arrested.  His  com- 
panions, and  even  his  escort,  were  surprised  at  his  infat- 
uation, and  could  not  help  inquiring,  why,  being  once  at 
liberty,  he  had  not  made  the  best  of  his  way  to  a  place  of 
safety ;  to  which  he  rephed,  that  he  had  intended  to  do 


WAVERLEY.  41 

SO,  but,  in  good  faith,  he  had  returned  to  seek  his  Tiius 
Livius,  which  he  had  forgot  in  the  hurry  of  his  escape. 
The  simplicity  of  this  anecdote  struck  the  gentleman, 
who,  as  we  before  observed,  had  managed  the  defence 
of  some  of  those  unfortunate  persons,  at  the  expense  of 
Sir  Everard,  and  perhaps  some  others  of  the  party.  He 
was,  besides,  himself  a  special  admirer  of  the  old  Patavin- 
ian,  and  though  probably  his  own  zeal  might  not  have 
carried  him  such  extravagant  lengths,  even  to  recover 
the  edition  of  Sweynheim  and  Pannartz,  (supposed  to 
be  the  princeps)  he  did  not  the  less  estimate  the  devotion 
of  the  North  Briton,  and  so  exerted  himself  to  remove 
and  soften  evidence,  detect  legal  flaws,  etcetera,  that  he 
accomplished  the  final  discharge  and  dehverance  of 
Cosmo  Comyne  Bradwardine  from  certain  very  awkward 
consequences  of  a  plea  before  our  sovereign  lord  the 
king  in  Westminster. 

The  Baron  of  Bradwardine,  for  he  was  generally  so 
called  in  Scotland,  (although  his  intimates,  from  his  place 
of  residence,  used  to  denominate  him  Tully-Veolan,  or, 
more  familiarly,  Tully)  no  sooner  stood  rectus  in  curia^ 
than  he  posted  down  to  pay  his  respects  and  make  his 
acknowledgments  at  Waverley-Honour.  A  congenial 
passion  for  field-sports,  and  a  general  coincidence  in 
political  opinions,  cemented  his  friendship  with  Sir  Ev- 
erard, notwithstanding  the  difference  of  their  habits  and 
studies  in  other  particulars  ;  and,  having  spent  several 
weeks  at  Waverley-Honour,  he  departed  with  many  ex- 
pressions of  regard,  warmly  pressing  the  baronet  to  re- 
*urn  his  visit,  and  partake  of  the  diversion  of  grouse- 
ihooting  upon  his  moors  in  Perthshire  next  season. 
Shortly  after,  Mr.  Bradwardine  remitted  from  Scotland 
a  sum  in  reimbursement  of  expenses  incurred  in  the 
King's  High  Court  of  Westminster,  which,  although  not 
quite  so  formidable  when  reduced  to  the  English  denom- 
ination, had,  in  its  original  form  of  Scotch  pounds,  shil- 
lings, and  pence,  such  a  formidable  efi'ect  upon  the 
frame  of  Duncan  Macvvheeble,  the   laird's   confidential 

4*      VOL.    I, 


42  WAVE  RLE  T. 

factor,  baron  baillie,  and  man  of  resource,  that  he  had 
a  fit  of  the  colic  which  lasted  for  five  days,  occasioned,  he 
said,  solely  and  utterly  by  becoming  the  unhappy  instru- 
ment of  conveying  such  a  serious  sum  of.  money  out  of 
his  native  country  into  the  hands  of  the  false  English. 
But  patriotism,  as  it  is  the  fairest,  so  is  it  often  the  most 
suspicious  mark  of  other  feelings  ;  and  many  who  knew 
Baillie  Macwheeble,  concluded  that  his  professions  of 
regret  were  not  altogether  disinterested,  and  that  he  would 
have  grudged  the  monies  paid  to  the  loons  at  Westmin- 
ster much  less  had  they  not  come  from  Bradwardine  es- 
tate, a  fund  which  he  considered  as  more  particularly 
his  own.  But  the  Baillie  protested  he  was  absolutely 
disinterested — - 

"  Woe,  woe  for  Scotland,  not  a  whit  for  me." 

The  laird  was  only  rejoiced  that  his  worthy  friend.  Sir 
Everard  Waverley  of  Waverley-Honour,  w^as  reimburs- 
ed of  the  expenditure  which  he  had  outlaid  on  account 
of  the  house  of  Bradwardine.  It  concerned,  he  said, 
the  credit  of  his  own  family,  and  the  kingdom  of  Scot- 
land at  large,  that  these  disbursements  should  be  repaid 
forthwith,  and  if  delayed,  it  would  be  a  matter  of  na~ 
tional  reproach.  Sir  Everard,  accustomed  to  treat  much 
larger  sums  with  indifference,  received  the  remittance  of 
£.294  :  13  :  6,  without  being  aware  that  the  payment 
was  an  international  concern,  and,  indeed,  would  proba- 
bly have  forgot  the  circumstance  altogether,  if  Baillie 
Macwheeble  had  thought  of  comforting  his  colic  by  in- 
tercepting the  subsidy.  A  yearly  intercourse  took  place, 
of  a  short  letter,  and  a  hamper  or  a  cask  or  two  be- 
tween Waverley-Honour  and  Tully-Veolan,  the  English 
exports  consisting  of  mighty  cheeses  and  mightier  ale, 
pheTiSants,  and  venison,  and  the  Scottish  returns,  being 
vested  in  grouse,  white  hares,  pickled  salmon,  and  us- 
quebaugh. All  which  were  meant  and  received  as  pledges 
of  constant  friendship  and-^amity  between  two  important 
houses.  It  followed  as  a  matter  of  course,  that  the 
heir-apparent  of  Waverley-Honour  could   not  with  pro- 


WAVERLET.  43 

priety  visit   Scotland  without  being  furnished  with  cre- 
dentials to  the  Baron  of  Bradwardine. 

When  this  matter  was  explained  and  settled,  Mr. 
Pembroke  expressed  his  wish  to  take  a  private  and  par- 
ticular leave  of  his  dear  pupil.  The  good  man's  exhor- 
tations to  Edward  to  preserv^e  an  unblemished  hfe  and 
morals,  to  hold  fast  the  principles  of  the  Christian  re- 
ligion, and  to  eschew  the  profane  company  of  scoffers 
and  latitudinarians,  too  much  abounding  in  the  army, 
were  not  unmingled  with  his  political  prejudices.  It 
had  pleased  Heaven,  he  said,  to  place  Scotland  (doubt- 
less for  the  sins  of  their  ancestors  in  1642)  in  a  more 
deplorable  state  of  darkness  than  even  this  unhappy 
kingdom  of  England.  Here,  at  least,  ahhough  the  can- 
dlestick of  the  church  of  England  had  been  in  some 
degree  removed  from  its  place,  it  yet  afforded  a  ghm- 
mering  light ;  there  was  a  hierarchy,  though  schismati- 
cal  and  fallen  from  the  principles  maintained  by  those 
great  fathers  of  the  church,  Sancroft  and  his  brethren  ; 
there  was  a  liturgy,  though  wofully  perverted  in  some  of 
the  principal  petitions.  But  in  Scotland  it  was  utter 
darkness,  and  excepting  a  sorrowful,  scattered,  and  per- 
secuted remnant,  the  pulpits  were  abandoned  to  pres- 
byterians,  and,  he  feared,  to  sectaries  of  every  descrip- 
tion. It  should  be  his  duty  to  fortify  his  dear  pupil  to 
resist  such  unhallowed  and  pernicious  doctrines  in 
church  and  state,  as  must  necessarily  be  forced  at  times 
upon  his  unwilling  ears. — Here  he  produced  two  im- 
mense folded  packets,  which  appeared  each  to  contain 
a  whole  ream  of  closely  written  manuscript.  They  had 
been  the  labour  of  the  worthy  man's  whole  life  ;  and 
never  were  labour  and  zeal  more  absurdly  wasted.  He 
had  at  one  time  gone  to  London,  with  the  intention  oi 
giving  them  to  the  world,  by  the  medium  of  a  bookselle? 
in  Little  Britain,  well  known  to  deal  in  such  commodi- 
ties, and  to  whom  he  was  instructed  to  address  himself 
in  a  particular  phrase,  and  with  a  certain  sign,  which,  it 
seems,  passed  at  that  time  current  among  the  initiated 
Jacobites.     The  moment  Mr.  Pembroke  had  uttered  the 


44  WAVER  LEY. 

Shibboleth,  with  the  appropriate  gesture,  the  bibliopolist 
greeted  him,  notwithstanding  every  disclamation,  by  the 
title  of  Doctor,  and  conveying  him  into  his  back  shop, 
after  inspecting  every  possible  and  impossible  place  of 
concealment,  he  commenced  :  "  Eh,  doctor  ! — Well — 
all  under  the  rose — snug — I  keep  no  holes  here  even 
for  a  Hanoverian  rat  to  hide  in.  And,  what — eh  !  any 
good  news  from  our  friends  over  the  water  ? — and  how 
does  the  worthy  King  of  France  ? — Or  perhaps  you 
are  more  lately  from  Rome  ?  it  must  be  Rome  will  do 
it  at  last — the  church  must  hght  its  candle  at  the  old 
lamp. — Eh — what,  cautious  ?  I  like  you  the  better  ;  but 
no  fear." 

Here  Mr.  Pembroke  with  some  difficulty  stopped  a 
torrent  of  interrogations,  eked  out  with  signs,  nods,  and 
winks ;  and,  having  at  length  convinced  the  bookseller 
that  he  did  him  too  much  honour  in  supposing  him  an 
emissary  of  exiled  royalty,  he  explained  his  real  busi- 
ness. 

The  man  of  books  with  a  much  miore  composed  air 
proceeded  to  examine  the  manuscripts.  The  title  of 
the  first  was,  "  A  Dissent  from  Dissenters,  or  the  Com- 
prehension confuted  ;  showing  the  impossibility  of  any 
composition  between  the  Church  and  Puritans,  Presby- 
terians, or  Sectaries  of  any  description  ;  illustrated  from 
the  Scriptures,  the  Fathers  of  the  Church,  and  the 
soundest  controversial  Divines."  To  this  work,  the 
bookseller  positively  demurred.  "  Well  m.eant,"  he 
said,  "  and  learned,  doubtless  :  but  the  time  had  gone 
by.  Printed  on  small  pica  it  would  run  to  eight  hundred 
pages,  and  could  never  pay.  Begged  therefore  to  be 
excused — Loved  and  honoured  the  true  church  from 
his  soul,  and,  had  it  been  a  sermon  on  the  martyrdom, 
or  any  twelve-penny  touch — why  I  would  venture  some- 
thing for  the  honour  of  the  cloth — But  come,  let's  see 
the  other.  "  Right  hereditary  righted  !" — Ay  !  there's 
some  sense  in  this.     Hum — hum — hum — pages  so  many, 

paper  so  much,  letter-press Ay — I'll  tell  you,  though, 

doctor,    you    must   knock   out  some  of  the  Latin  and 


WAVERLEY.  45 

Greek  ;  heavy,  doctor,  damn'd  heavy — (beg  your  par- 
don) and  if  you  throw  in  a  few  grains  more  pepper — I 
am  he  that  never  peached  my  author — I  have  pubhshed 
for  Drake  and  Charlwood  Lawton,  and  poor  Amherst — 
All,  Caleb  !  Caleb  !  Well,  it  was  a  shame  to  let  poor 
Caleb  starve,  and  so  many  fat  rectors  and  squires  among 
us.  I  gave  him  a  dinner  once  a-week  ;  but,  Lord  love 
you,  what's  once  a-week,  when  a  man  does  not  know 
where  to  go  the  other  six  days  f — Well,  but  I  must  show 
the  manuscript  to  little  Tom  Alibi  the  solicitor,  who 
manages  all  my  law  affairs — must  keep  on  the  windy 
side — the  mob  were  very  unci\il  the  last  time  in  Old 
Palace  Yard — all  whigs  and  round-heads  every  man  of 
them,  Williamites  and  Hanover  rats." 

The  next  day  Mr.  Pembroke  again  called  on  the 
pubhsher,  but  found  Tom  Alibi's  advice  had  determined 
him  against  undertaking  the  work.  "  Not  but  what  I 
would  go  to — (What  T\as  I  going  to  say  f)  to  the  plan- 
tations for  the  church  with  pleasure — but,  dear  doctor,  I 
have  a  wife  and  family ;  but,  to  show  my  zeal,  I'll  recom- 
mend the  job  to  my  neighbour  Trimmel — he  is  a  bach- 
elor, and  leaving  off  business,  so  a  voyage  in  a  western 
barge  v.ould  not  inconvenience  him."  But  3Ir.  Trim- 
mel was  also  obdurate,  and  ]Mr.  Pembroke,  fortunately 
perchance  for  himself,  was  compelled  to  return  to  Waver- 
ley-Honour  with  his  treatise  in  vindication  of  the  real 
fundamental  principles  of  church  and  state  safely  packed 
in  his  saddle-bags. 

As  the  public  were  thus  likely  to  be  deprived  of  the 
Ijenefit  arising  from  his  lucubrations  by  the  selfish  cow- 
ardice of  the  trade,  Mr.  Pembroke  resolved  to  make 
two  copies  of  these  tremendous  manuscripts  for  the  use 
of  his  pupil.  He  felt  that  ]ie  had  been  indolent  as  a 
tutor,  and,  besides,  his  conscience  checked  him  for 
complying  with  the  request  of  Mr.  Richard  Waverley, 
that  he  would  impress  no  sentiments  upon  Edward's 
mind  inconsistent  with  the  present  settlement  in  church 
;uid  state.  "  But  now,"  thought  he,  "  I  may  without 
breach  of  my  word,  since    he  is  no  longer  under  my 


46  WAVERLEY. 

tuition,  afford  the  youth  the  means  of  judging  for  him- 
self, and  have  only  to  dread  his  reproaches  for  so  long 
concealing  the  light  which  the  perusal  will  flash  upon 
his  mind."  While  he  thus  indulged  the  reveries  of  an 
author  and  a  politician,  his  darling  proselyte,  seeing 
nothing  very  inviting  in  the  title  of  the  tracts,  and  ap- 
palled by  the  bulk  and  compact  lines  of  the  manuscript, 
quietly  consigned  them  to  a  corner  of  his  travelling  trunk. 
Aunt  Rachael's  farewell  was  brief  and  affectionate. 
She  only  cautioned  her  dear  Edward,  whom  she  pro- 
bably deemed  somewhat  susceptible,  against  the  fascina- 
tion of  Scottish  beauty.  She  allowed  that  the  northern 
part  of  the  island  contained  some  ancient  families,  but 
they  were  all  whigs  and  presbyterians  except  the  High- 
landers ;  and  respecting  them  she  must  needs  say, 
there  could  be  no  great  delicacy  among  the  ladies,  where, 
the  gentleman's  usual  attire  was,  as  she  had  been  as- 
sured, to  say  the  least,  very  singular,  and  not  at  all  dec- 
orous. She  concluded  her  farewell  with  a  kind  and 
moving  benediction,  and  gave  the  young  officer,  as  a 
pledge  of  her  regard,  a  valuable  diamond  ring,  (frequent- 
ly worn  by  the  male  sex  at  that  time)  and  a  purse  of 
of  broad  gold  pieces,  which  also  were  more  common 
Sixty  Years  Since  than  they  have  been  of  late. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

A  Horse- (Quarter  in  Scotland. 

The  next  morning,  amid  varied  feelings,  the  chief 
of  which  was  a  predominant,  anxious,  and  even  solemn 
impression,  that  he  was  now  in  a  great  measure  aban- 
doned to  his  own  guidance  and  direction,  Edward 
Waverley  departed  from  the  Hall  amid  the  blessings 
and  tears  of  all  the  old  domestics  and  the  inhabitants  of 


WAVE  RLE  Y.  47 

the  village,  mingled  with  some  sly  petitions  for  ser- 
jeantcies  and  corporalships,  and  so  forth,  on  the  part  of 
those  who  professed  that  they  never  tho't  to  ha'  seen 
Jacob,  and  Giles,  and  Jonathan,  go  off  for  soldiers,  save 
to  attend  his  honour,  as  in  duty  bound.  Edward,  as  in 
duty  bound,  extricated  himself  from  the  supplicants  with 
the  pledge  of  fewer  promises  than  might  have  been 
expected  from  a  young  man  so  little  accustomed  to  the 
world.  After  a  short  visit  to  London,  he  proceeded  on 
horseback,  then  the  general  mode  of  conveyance,  to  Ed- 
inburgh, and  from  thence  to  D ,  a  sea-port  on  the 

eastern  coast  of  Angusshire,  where  his  regiment  was 
then  quartered. 

He  now 'entered  upon  a  new  world,  where  for  a  time, 

all  was  beautiful  because  all  was  new.     Colonel  G , 

the  commanding  officer  of  the  regiment,  was  himself  a 
study  for  a  romantic,  and  at  the  same  time  an  inquisi- 
tive youth.  In  person  he  was  tall,  handsome,  and  ac- 
tive, though  somewhat  advanced  in  life.  In  his  early 
years,  he  had  been  what  is  called,  by  manner  of  palHa- 
tive,  a  very  gay  young  man,  and  strange  stories  were 
circulated  about  his  sudden  conversion  from  doubt,  if 
not  in6delity,  to  a  serious  and  even  enthusiastic  turn  of 
mind.  It  was  whispered  that  a  supernatural  communi- 
cation, of  a  nature  obvious  even  to  the  exterior  senses, 
had  produced  this  wonderful  change  ;  and  though  some 
mentioned  the  proselyte  as  an  enthusiast,  none  hinted  at 
his  being  a  hypocrite.  This  singular  and  mystical  cir- 
cumstance gave  Colonel  G a  peculiar  and  sol- 
emn interest  in  the  eyes  of  the  young  soldier.  It  may 
be  easily  imagined  that  the  officers  of  a  regiment,  com- 
manded by  so  respectable  a  person,  composed  a  society 
more  sedate  and  orderly  than  a  military  mess  always 
exhibits ;  and  that  Waverley  escaped  some  temptations 
to  which  he  might  otherwise  have  been  exposed. 

Meanwhile  his  military  education  proceeded.  Al- 
ready a  good  horseman,  he  was  now  initiated  into  the  arts 
of  the  manege,  which,  when  carried  to  perfection,  almost 


48  AVAYERLEY. 

realize  the  fable  of  the  Centaur,  the  guidance  of  the 
horse  appearing  to  proceed  from  the  rider's  mere  volition, 
rather  than  from  the  use  of  any  external  and  apparent 
signal  of  motion.  He  received  also  instructions  in  his 
field  duty  ;  but  1  must  own,  that  when  his  first  ardour 
was  past,  his  progress  fell  short  in  the  latter  particular 
of  what  he  wished  and  expected.  The  duty  of  an  of- 
ficer, the  most  imposing  of  all  others  to  the  inexperi- 
enced mind,  because  accompanied  with  so  much  out- 
ward pomp  and  circumstance,  is  in  its  essence  a  very 
dry  and  abstract  task,  depending  chiefly  upon  arith- 
metical combinations,  requiring  much  attention,  and  a 
cool  and  reasoning  head  to  bring  them  into  action.  Our 
hero  was  liable  to  fits  of  absence,  in  which  his  blunders 
excited  some  mirth,  and  called  down  some  reproof. 
This  circumstance  impressed  him  with  a  painful  sense 
of  inferiority  in  those  qualities  which  appeared  most  to 
deserve  and  obtain  regard  in  his  new  profession.  He 
asked  himself  in  vain,  why  his  eye  could  not  judge  of 
distance  or  space  so  well  as  those  of  his  companions  ; 
why  Jiis  head  was  not  always  successful  in  disentangling 
the  various  partial  movements  necessary  to  execute  a 
particular  evolution  ;  and  why  his  memory,  so  alert  upon 
most  occasions,  did  not  correctly  retain  technical  phrases, 
and  minute  points  of  etiquette  or  field  discipline. 
Waverley  was  naturally  modest,  and  therefore  did  not 
fall  into  the  egregious  mistake  of  supposing  such  mi- 
nuter rules  of  military  duty  beneath  his  notice,  or  con- 
ceitins:  himself  to  be  born  a  2;eneral  because  he  made 
an  indifierent  subaltern.  The  truth  was,  that  the  vague 
and  unsatisfactory  course  of  reading  which  he  had  pur- 
sued, working  upon  a  temper  naturally  retired  and  ab- 
stracted, had  given  him  that  wavering  and  unsettled 
habit  of  mind  which  is  most  averse  to  study  and  rivetted 
attention.  Time,  in  the  mean  while,  hung  heavy  on  his 
hands.  The  gentry  of  the  neighbourhood  were  disaf- 
Tected,  and  showed  little  hospitality  to  the  v||^ilitary 
guests  ;  and  the  people  of  the  town,  chiefly  engaged  in 
mercantile   p-'rs;i  's,  were   not   such  as  Waverley  chose 


WAVERLEY.  49 

to  associate  with.  The  arrival  of  summer,  and  a  cu- 
riosity to  know  something  more  of  Scotland  than  he 
could  see  in  a  ride  from  his  quarters,  determined  him 
to  request  leave  of  absence  for  a  few  weeks.  He  re- 
solved first  to  visit  his  uncle's  ancient  friend  and  cor- 
respondent, with  a  purpose  of  extending  or  shortening 
the  time  of  his  residence  according  to  circumstances. 
He  travelled  of  course  on  horseback,  and  with  a  single 
attendant,  and  he  passed  his  first  night  at  a  miserable  inn, 
where  the  landlady  had  neither  shoes  nor  stockings,  and 
the  landlord,  w4io  called  himself  a  gentleman,  was  dis- 
posed to  be  rude  to  his  guest,  because  he  had  not  be- 
spoke the  pleasure  of  his  society  to  supper.  The  next 
day,  traversing  an  open  and  unenclosed  country,  Edward 
gradually  approached  the  Highlands  of  Perthshire, 
which  at  first  had  appeared  a  blue  outhne  in  the  horizon, 
but  now  swelled  into  huge  gigantic  masses,  which  frown- 
ed defiance  over  the  more  level  country  that  lay  be- 
neath them.  Near  the  bottom  of  this  stupendous  bar- 
rier, but  still  in  the  Lowland  country,  dwelt  Cosmo 
Comyne  Bradwardine  of  Bradwardine  ;  and  if  grey- 
haired  eld  can  be  in  aught  beHeved,  there  had  dwelt  his 
ancestors,  with  all  their  heritage,  since  the  days  of  the 
gracious  King  Duncan. 


CHAPTER  Vni. 

*d  Scottish  Manor-House  Sixty  Years  Since, 

It  was  about  noon  when  Captain  Waverley  entered 
the  straggling  village,  or  rather  hamlet,  of  Tully-Veolan, 
close  to  which  was  situated  the  mansion  of  the  proprietor. 
The  houses  seemed  miserable  in  the  extreme,  especially 
to  an  eye  accustomed  to  the  siniling  neatness  of  Enghsh 

5        VOL.     I. 


50  WAVERLET. 

cottages.  They  stood,  without  any  respect  or  regularity, 
on  each  side  of  a  straggling  kind  of  unpaved  street, 
where  children,  almost  in  a  primhive  state  of  nakedness, 
lay  sprawling,  as  if  to  be  crushed  by  the  hoofs  of  the 
first  passing  horse.  Occasionally,  indeed,  when  such  a 
consummation  seemed  inevitable,  a  watchful  old  gran- 
dame,  with  her  close  cap,  distaff,  and  spindle,  rushed 
like  a  sybil  in  frenzy  out  of  one  of  these  miserable  cells, 
dashed  in^o  the  middle  of  the  path,  and  snatching  up  her 
own  charge  from  among  the  sun-burnt  loiterers,  saluted 
him  with  a  sound  cuff,  and  transported  him  back  to  his 
dungeon,  the  little  white-headed  varlet  screaming  all  the 
while  from  the  very  top  of  his  lungs  a  shrilly  treble  to  the 
growling  remonstrances  of  the  enraged  matron.  Another 
part  in  this  concert  was  sustained  by  the  incessant  yelp- 
ing of  a  score  of  idle  useless  curs,  which  followed,  snarl- 
ing, barking,  howling,  and  snapping  at  the  horses'  heels ; 
a  nuisance  at  that  time  so  common  in  Scotland,  that  a 
French  tourist,  v»'ho,  hke  other  travellers,  longed  to  find 
a  good  and  rational  reason  for  every  thing  he  saw,  has  re- 
corded, as  one  of  the  memorabilia  of  Caledonia,  that 
tiie  state  maintained  in  each  village  a  relay  of  curs,  called 
collies,  whose  duty  it  was  to  chase  the  chevaux  de  poste 
(too  starved  and  exhausted  to  mov^e  without  such  a  stim- 
ulus) from  one  hamlet  to  another,  till  their  annoying  con- 
voy diove  them  to  the  end  of  their  stage.  The  evil  and 
remedy  (such  as  it  is)  still  exist  :  But  this  is  remote  fi  om 
our  present  purpose,  and  is  only  thrown  out  for  consid- 
eration of  tlie  collectors  under  ^Ir.  Dent's  dog-bill. 

As  Waverley   moved  on,  here  and   there  an  old  man, 

bent  as  much  by  toil  as  years,  his  eyes  bleared  with  age 

and  smoke,  tottered  to  the  door  of  his  hut,  to   gaze  on 

the  dress  of  the  stranger,  and   the  form   and  motions  of 

■)e  horses,  and  then   assembled,  with  his  neighbours,  in 

little  group   at  the  smithy,  to  discuss  the  probabiHiies 

f  whence   the  stranger  came,  and    where   he  might  be 

;;oing.     Three  or  four  village    girls,  returning  from  the 

well  or  brook  with  pitchers  and  pails  upon  their  heads, 

formed  more  pleasing  objects,  and  with  their  thin  short- 


WAVERLEY.  *  51 

gowns  and  single  petticoats,  bare  anns,  legs,  and  feet, 
uncovered  heads  and  braided  hair,  somewhat  resembled 
Itahan  forms  of  landscape.  Nor  could  a  lover  of  the 
picturesque  have  challenged  either  the  elegance  of  their 
costume,  or  the  symmetry  of  their  shape,  although,  to 
say  the  truth,  a  mere  Englishman,  in  search  of  the  com- 
^ortahle,  a  word  pecuhar  to  his  native  tongue,  might  have 
wished  the  clothes  less  scanty,  the  feet  and  legs  somewhat 
protected  from  the  weather,  the  head  and  complexion 
shrouded  from  the  sun,  or  perhaps  might  even  have 
thought  the  whole  person  and  dress  considerably  improv- 
ed by  a  plentiful  application  of  spring  water,  with  a 
quantum  sufficit  of  soap.  The  whole  scene  was  depress- 
ing, for  it  argued,  at  the  first  glance,  at  least  a  stagnation 
of  industry,  and  perhaps  of  intellect.  Even  curiosity, 
the  busiest  passion  of  the  idle,  seemed  of  a  listless  cast 
in  the  village  of  Tully-Veolan  :  the  curs  aforesaid  alone 
showed  any  part  of  its  activity ;  with  the  villagers  it  was 
passive.  They  stood  and  gazed  at  the  handsome  young 
officer  and  his  attendant,  but  without  any  of  those  quick 
motions  and  eager  looks  that  indicate  the  earnestness 
with  which  those  who  live  in  monotonous  ease  at  home, 
look  out  for  amusement  abroad.  Yet  the  physiognomy 
of  the  people,  when  more  closely  examined,  was  far 
from  exhibiting  the  indifference  of  stupidity  ;  their  fea- 
tures were  rough,  but  remarkably  intelhgent,  grave,  but 
the  very  reverse  of  stupid  ;  and  from  among  the  young 
women,  an  artist  might  have  chosen  more  than  one  niodel 
whose  features  and  form  resembled  those  of  Minerva. 
The  children  also,  whose  skins  were  burnt  black,  and 
w^hose  hair  was  bleached  white,  by  the  influence  of  the 
sun,  had  a  look  and  manner  of  life  and  interest.  It 
seemed,  upon  the  whole,  as  if  poverty  and  indolence,  its 
too  frequent  companion,  were  combining  to  depress  the 
natural  genius  and  acquired  information  of  a  hardy,  in- 
telligent, and  reflecting  peasantry. 

Some  such   thoughts  crossed   Waverley's  mind  as  he 
paced   his  horse  slowly  through  the   rugged  and  flinty 


52  WAVERLEY. 

Street  of  Tully-Veolan,  interrupted  only  in  his  meditations 
by  the  occasional  cabrioles  which  his  charger  exhibited 
at  the  reiterated  assaults  of  these  canine  Cossacks,  the 
collies  before  mentioned.  The  village  was  more  than 
half  a  mile  long,  the  cottages  being  irregularly  divided 
from  each  other  by  gardens,  or  yards,  as  the  inhabitants 
called  them,  of  different  sizes,  where  (for  it  is  Sixty 
Years  Since)  the  now  universal  potatoe  was  unknown, 
but  which  were  stored  with  gigantic  plants  of  kale  or 
colewort,  encircled  with  groves  of  nettles,  and  exhibited 
here  and  there  a  huge  hemlock,  or  the  national  thistle, 
overshadowing  a  quarter  of  the  petty  inclosure.  The 
broken  ground  on  which  the  village  was  built  had  never 
been  levelled,  so  that  these  inclosures  presented  declivities 
of  every  degree,  here  rising  like  terraces,  there  sinking 
like  tan-pits.  The  dry  stone  walls  w^hich  fenced,  or 
seemed  to  fence,  (for  they  were  sorely  breached)  these 
hanging  gardens  of  Tully-Veolan,  were  intersected  by  a 
narrow  lane  leading  to  the  common  field,  where  the  joint 
labour  of  tbe  villagers  cultivated  alternate  ridges  and 
patches  of  rye,  oats,  barley,  and  pease,  each  of  such 
minute  extent,  that  at  a  little  distance  the  unprofitable 
variety  of  the  surface  resembled  a  tailor's  book  of  pat- 
terns. In  a  few  favoured  instances,  there  appeared  be- 
hind the  cottages  a  miserable  wigwam,  compiled  of 
earth,  loose  stones,  and  turf,  where  the  wealthy  might 
perhaps  shelter  a  starved  cow  or  sorely  galled  horse.  But 
almost  every  hut  was  fenced  in  front  by  a  huge  black 
stack  of  turf  on  one  side  of  the  door,  while  on  the  other 
the  family  dunghill  ascended  in  noble  emulation. 

About  a  bow-shot  from  the  end  of  the  village  appeared 
the  inclosures  proudly  denominated  the  parks  of  Tully- 
Veolan,  being  certain  square  fields,  surrounded  and  divid- 
ed by  stone  walls  five  feet  in  height.  In  the  centre  of 
the  exterior  barrier  was  the  upper  gate  of  the  avenue, 
opening  under  an  archway,  battlemented  on  the  top,  and 
adorned  with  two  large  weather-beaten  mutilated  masses 
of  upright  stone,  which,  if  the  tradition  of  the  hamlet  could 
be  trusted,  had  once  represented,  at  least  had  been  once 


WAVE  RLE  T.  t>.> 

designed  to  represent,  two  rampant  bears,  the  supporters 
of  the  family  of  Bradwardine.  This  avenue  was  straight^ 
and  of  moderate  length,  running  between  a  double  ro^^ 
of  very  ancient  horse-chesnuts,  planted  alternately  witlj 
sycamores,  which  rose  to  such  huge  height,  and  flourish 
ed  so  luxuriantly,  that  their  boughs  completely  overarch- 
ed the  broad  road  beneath.  Beyond  these  venerable 
ranks,  and  running  parallel  to  them,  where  two  high  walh:, 
of  apparently  the  Hke  antiquity,  overgrown  with  ivy, 
honeysuckle,  and  other  climbing  plants.  The  avenu»j 
seemed  very  little  trodden,  and  chiefly  by  foot  passes  • 
gers  ;  so  that  being  very  broad,  and  enjoying  a  constant 
shade,  it  was  clothed  with  grass  of  a  very  deep  and  rich 
verdure,  excepting  where  a  foot-path,  worn  by  occasional 
passengers,  tracked  with  a  nat-jral  sweep  the  way  froni 
the  upper  to  the  lower  gate.  This  nether  portal,  lila: 
the  former,  opened  in  front  of  a  wall  ornamented  with 
some  rude  sculpture,  and  battlemented  on  tlie  top,  over 
which  were  seen,  half-hidden  by  the  trees  of  the  avenue, 
the  high  steep  roofs  and  narrow  gables  of  the  mansion^ 
with  lines  indented  into  steps,  and  corners  decorated  witK 
small  turrets.  One  of  the  folding  leaves  of  the  lowtr 
gate  was  open,  and  as  the  sun  shone  full  into  the  court 
behind,  along  line  of  brilliancy  was  flung  upon  the  aper- 
ture up  the  dark  and  gloomy  avenue.  It  was  one  i)i 
those  efl^ects  which  a  painter  loves  to  represent,  and 
mingled  well  with  the  struggling  light  v/hich  found  ii^ 
way  between  the  boughs  of  the  shady  arch  that  vault^jd 
the  broad  green  alley. 

The  solitude  and  repose  of  the  whole  scene  seem£<! 
ahnost  monastic  ;  and  Waverley,  who  had  given  hh 
liorse  to  his  servant  on  entering  the  first  gate,  walke'[ 
slowly  down  the  avenue,  enjoying  the  grateful  and  cool 
ing  shade,  and  so  much  pleased  with  the  placid  ideas  <:' 
rest  and  seclusion  excited  by  this  connned  and  qui».t 
scene,  that  he  forgot  the  misery  and  dirt  of  the  haml»j;: 
he  had  left  behind  him.  The  opening  into  the  paved 
court-yard  corresponded  with  the  rest  of  the  scene.     Th«3 

5*       VOL.     I. 


54 


W  AVE  RLE  T. 


house,  which  seemed  to  consist  of  two  or  three  high, 
narrow,  and  sleep-roofed  buildings,  projecting  from  each 
other  at  right  angles,  formed  one  side  of  the  inclosure. 
It  had  been  built  at  a  period  when  castles  were  no  longer 
necessary,  and  when  the  Scottish  architects  had  not  yet 
acquired  the  art  of  designing  a  domestic  residence.  The 
windows  were  numberless,  but  very  small  ;  the  roof  had 
some  non-descript  kind  of  projections,  called  bartizans, 
and  displayed  at  each  frequent  angle,  a  small  turret,  rather 
resembling  a  pepper-box  than  a  Gothic  watch-tower. 
Neither  did  the  front  indicate  absolute  security  from 
danger.  There  w'ere  loop-holes  for  musquetry,  and  iron 
stanchions  on  the  lower  windows,  probably  to  repel  any 
roving  band  of  gipsies,  or  resist  a  predatory  visit  from 
the  caterans  of  the  neighbouring  Highlands.  Stables 
and  other  offices  occupied  another  side  of  the  square. 
The  former  were  low  vaults,  with  narrow  slits,  instead 
of  windows,  resembhng,  as  Edward's  groom  observed, 
"  rather  a  prison  for  murderers  and  larceners,  and  such 
like  as  are  tried  at  sizes,  than  a  place  for  any  Christian 
cattle."  Above  these  dungeon-looking  stables  were  gran- 
aries, called  girnels,  and  other  offices,  to  which  there 
was  access  by  outside  stairs  of  hea\y  masonry.  Two 
battlemented  walls,  one  of  which  faced  the  avenue,  and 
the  other  divided  the  court  from  the  garden,  completed 
the  inclosure. 

Nor  was  the  court  w^ithout  its  ornaments.  In  one 
corner  was  a  tun-bellied  pigeon-house,  of  great  size  and 
rotundity,  resembling  in  figure  and  proportion  the  curious 
edifice  called  Arthur's  Oven,  which  would  have  turned 
the  brains  of  all  the  antiquaries  in  England,  had  not  the 
worthy  proprietor  pulled  it  down  for  the  sake  of  mend- 
ing a  neighbouring  dam-dyke.  This  dove-cote,  or  coU 
umbarium^  as  the  owner  called  it,  w^as  no  small  resource 
in  a  Scottish  laird  of  this  period,  whose  scanty  rents  were 
eked  out  by  the  contributions  levied  upon  the  farms  by 
these  iio;ht  foragers,  and  the  conscriptions  exacted  from 
the  latUr  for  the  benefit  of  the  table. 


WAVE  RLE  Y.  DD 

Another  corner  of  the  court  displayed  a  fountain, 
where  a  huge  bear,  carved  in  stone,  predominated  over 
a  large  stone-basin,  into  which  he  disgorged  the  water. 
This  work  of  art  was  the  wonder  of  the  country  ten 
miles  round.  It  must  not  be  forgotten  that  all  sorts  of 
bears,  small  and  lar^e,  demi  or  in  full  proportion,  were 
carved  over  the  windows,  upon  the  ends  of  the  2;ables, 
terminated  the  spouts,  and  supported  the  turrets,  with 
the  ancient  family  motto  **  JJttDtlt  tilC  iJat/'  cut  under 
each  hyperborean  form.  The  court  was  spacious,  well 
paved,  and  perfectly  clean,  there  being  probably  another 
entrance  behind  the  stables  for  removins;  the  litter. 
Every  thing  around  appeared  solitary,  and  would  have 
been  silent,  but  for  the  continued  splashing  of  the  foun- 
tain ;  and  the  whole  scene  still  maintained  the  monastic 
illusion  which  the  fancy  of  Waverley  had  conjured  up,— 
And  here  we  beg  permission  to  close  a  chapter  of  still  life. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

•T/ore  of  the  i\'Ianor- House  and  its  Environs. 

After  having  satisfied  his  curiosity  by  gazing  around 
him  for  a  few  minutes,  Waverley  applied  himself  to  the 
jsassive  knocker  of  the  hall-door,  the  architrave  of  which 
bore  the  date  1594.  But  no  answer  was  returned, 
though  the  peal  resounded  through  a  number  of  apart- 
ments, and  was  echoed  from  the  court-yard  walls  without 
the  house,  startling  the  pigeons  from  the  venerable  ro- 
tunda which  they  occupied,  and  alarming  anew  even  the 
distant  village  curs,  which  had  retired  to  sleep  upoa 
their  respective  dunghills.  Tired  of  the  din  which  he 
created,  and  the  unprofitable  responses  which  it  excited, 
Waverley  began  to  think  that  he  had  reached  the  castle 
of  Orgoglio,  as  entered  by  the  victorious  Prince  Arthur. 


66  WAVE  RLE  Y. 

When  'gan  lie  loudly  through  the  house  to  call, 

But  no  man  cared  to  answer  to  his  cry  ; 
There  reign'd  a  solemn  silence  over  all, 
Nor  voice  was  heard,  nor  wight  was  seen  in  bower  or  hall. 

Filled  almost  with  expectation  of  beholding  some  "  old 
old  man,  with  beard  as  white  as  snow,"  whom  he  might 
question  concerning  this  deserted  mansion,  our  hero  turn- 
ed to  a  little  oaken  wicket-door,  well  clenched  with  iron- 
nails,  which  opened  into  the  court-yard  wall  at  its  angle 
with  the  house.  It  was  only  latched,  notwithstanding  its 
fortified  appearance,  and,  when  opened,  admitted  him 
into  the  garden,  which  presented  a  pleasant  scene.  The 
southern  side  of  the  house,  clothed  with  fruit  trees,  and 
having  many  evergreens  trained  upon  its  walls,  extended 
its  irregular  yet  venerable  front,  along  a  terrace,  fjartly 
paved,  partly  gravelled,  partly  bordered  with  flowers  and 
choice  shrubs.  This  elevation  descended  by  three  sev- 
eral flights  of  steps,  placed  in  its  centre  and  at  the  ex- 
tremities, into  what  might  be  called  the  garden  proper, 
and  was  fenced  along  the  top  by  a  stone  parapet  with  a 
heavy  balustrade,  ornamented  from  space  to  space  with 
liuge  grotesque  figures  of  animals  seated  upon  their 
haunches,  among  which  the  favourite  bear  was  repeatedly 
introduced.  Placed  in  the  middle  of  the  terrace,  between 
a  sashed-door  opening  from  the  house  and  the  central 
flight  of  steps,  a  huge  animal  of  the  same  species  sup- 
ported on  his  head  and  fore-paws  a  sun-dial  of  large 
circumference,  inscribed  with  more  diagrams  than  Ed- 
ward's mathematics  enabled  him  to   decipher. 

The  garden,  which  seemed  to  be  kept  with  great  ac- 
curacy, and  abounded  in  fruit  trees,  exhibited  a  profusion 
of  flowers  and  evergreens,  cut  into  grotesque  forms.  If  ^ 
was  laid  out  in  terraces,  which  descended  rank  by  rank 
from  the  western  wall  to  a  large  brook,  which  had  a 
tranquil  and  smooth  appearance,  where  it  served  as  a 
boundary  to  the  garden  ;  but,  near  the  extremity,  leapt 
in  tumult  over  a  strong  dam,  or  wear-head,  the  cause  of 
its  temporary  tranquillity,  and  there  forming  a  cascade, 


WAVERLEY.  57 

was  overlooked  by  an  octangular  summer-house,  with  a 
gilded  bear  on  the  top  by  way  of  vane.  After  this  feat, 
the  brook,  assuming  its  natural  rapid  and  fierce  character, 
escaped  from  the  eye  down  a  deep  and  wooded  dell,  from 
the  copse  of  which  arose  a  massive,  but  ruinous  tower, 
the  former  habitation  of  the  Barons  of  Bradwardine. 
The  margin  of  the  brook,  opposite  to  the  garden,  dis- 
played a  narrow  meadow,  or  haugh,  as  it  was  called, 
which  formed  a  small  washing-green  ;  the  bank,  which 
retired  behind  it,  was  covered  by  ancient  trees. 

The  scene,  though  pleasing,  was  not  quite  equal  to  the 
gardens  of  Alcina  ;  yet  it  w^anted  not  the  "  due  donzelette 
garrule'^  of  that  enchanting  paradise,  for  upon  the  green 
aforesaid,  two  bare-legged  damsels,  each  standing  in  a 
spacious  tub,  performed  with  their  feet  the  office  of  a 
patent  washing-machine.  These  did  not  how^ever,  like 
the  maidens  of  Armida,  remain  to  greet  with  their  har- 
mony the  approaching  guest,  but,  alarmed  at  the  appear- 
ance of  a  handsome  stranger  on  the  opposite  side,  drop- 
ped their  garments  (I  should  say  garment,  to  be  quite 
correct)  over  their  Hmbs,  which  their  occupation,  exposed 
somewhat  too  freely,  and,  with  a  shrill  exclamation  of 
"  Eh,  sirs  !"  uttered  with  an  accent  between  modesty 
and  coquetry,  sprung  off  like  deer  in  different  directions. 

Waverley  began  to  despair  of  gaining  entrance  into 
this  sohtary  and  seemingly  enchanted  mansion,  w^hen  a 
man  advanced  up  one  of  the  garden  alleys,  w^iere  he 
still  retained  his  station.  Trusting  this  might  be  a  gar- 
dener, or  some  domestic  belonging  to  the  house,  Edward 
descended  the  steps  in  order  to  meet  him  ;  but  as  the 
figure  approached,  and  long  before  he  could  descry  its 
features,  he  w'as  struck  with  the  oddity  of  its  appearance 
and  gestures.  Sometimes  this  mister  wight  held  his 
hands  clasped  over  his  head,  like  an  Indian  Jogue  in  the 
attitude  of  penance  ;  sometimes  he  swung  them  perpen- 
dicularly, hke  a  pendulum,  on  each  side  ;  and  anon  he 
slapped  them  swiftly  and  repeatedly  across  his  breast, 
like  the  substitute  used  by  a  hackney-coachman  for  his 
usual  flogging  exercise,  when  his  cattle  are  idle  upon  the 


58  AVAVERXET. 

Stand,  in  a  clear  frosty  day.  His  gait  was  as  singular  as 
his  gestures,  for  at  times  he  hopp'd  with  great  persever- 
ance on  the  right  foot,  then  exchanged  that  supporter  to 
advance  in  the  same  manner  on  the  left,  and  then  putting 
his  feet  close  together,  he  hopp'd  upon  both  at  once. 
His  dress  also  w^as  antiquated  and  extravagant.  It  con- 
sisted in  a  sort  of  gray  jerkin,  with  scarlet  cuffs  and 
slash'd  sleeves,  showing  a  scarlet  lining  ;  the  other  parts 
of  the  dress  corresponded  in  colour,  not  forgetting  a  pair 
of  scarlet  stockings,  and  a  scarlet  bonnet,  proudly  sur- 
mounted with  a  turkey's  feather.  Edward,  whom  he 
did  not  seem  to  observe  now  perceived  confirmation  in 
his  features  of  what  the  mien  and  gestures  had  already 
announced.  It  w^as  apparently  neither  idiocy  nor  insanity 
which  gave  that  wild,  unsettled,  irregular  expression  to  a 
face  which  naturally  was  rather  handsome,  but  something 
that  resembled  a  compound  of  both,  where  the  simplicity 
of  the  fool  was  mixed  with  the  extravagance  of  a  crazed 
imagination.  He  sung  with  great  earnestness,  tmd  not 
without  some  taste,  a  fragment  of  an  old  Scotch  ditty  : 

False  love,  and  hast  lliou  play'd  me  this 

In  summer  among  the  flowers  ? 
I  will  repay  thee  back  again 
-  In  winter  among  the  showers. 
Unless  again,  again,  my  love, 

Unless  you  turn  again  ; 
As  you  with  other  maidens  rove, 
I  '11  smile  on  other  men. 

Here  hfting  up  his  eyes,  which  had  hitherto  been  fixed 
in  observing  how  his  feet  kept  time  to  the  tune,  he  be- 
held Waverley,  and  instantly  dofF'd  his  cap,  with  many 
grotesque  signals  of  surprise,  respect,  and  salutation. 
Edward,  though  with  little  hope  of  receiving  an  answer 
to  any  constant  question,  requested  to  know  whether  Mr. 
Bradwardine  were  at  home,  or  where  he  could  find  any 
of  the  domestics.  The  questioned  party  replied,  and 
like  the  witch  of  Thalaba,  *'  still  his  speech  was  song." — 


AVAYERLEY.  69 

The  Knight's  to  the  moiintaia 

His  bviglc  to  w  iiid  ; 
The  Lady's  to  greemvood 

Her  garland  to  bind. 
The  l)o\ver  of  Burd  Ellen 

Has  moss  on  the  floor, 
That  the  step  of  Lord  William 

Be  silent  and  sure. 

This  conveyed  no  information,  and  Edward,  repeat- 
ing his  queries,  received  a  rapid  answer,  in  which,  from 
the  haste  and  peculiarity  of  the  dialect,  the  word  "  but- 
ler" was  alone  inteUigible.  Waverley  then  requested  to 
see  the  butler  ;  upon  which  the  fellow,  with  a  knowing 
look  and  nod  of  intelligence,  made  a  signal  to  Edward 
to  follow,  and  began  to  dance  and  caper  down  the  alley 
up  which  he  had  made  his  approaches.  "  A  strange 
guide  this,"  thought  Edward,  "  and  not  much  unlike  one 
of  Shakspeare's  roynish  clowns.  I  am  not  over  prudent 
to  trust  to  his  pilotage  ;  but  wiser  men  have  been  led  by 
fools."  By  this  time  he  reached  the  bottom  of  the  alley, 
where,  turning  short  on  a  little  parterre  of  flowers, 
shrouded  from  the  east  and  north  by  a  close  yew  hedge, 
he  found  an  old  man  at  work  without  his  coat,  whose  ap- 
,  pearance  hovered  between  that  of  an  upper  servant  and 
'  gardener  ;  his  red  nose  and  rufded  shirt  belonging  to  the 
former  profession  ;  and  his  hale  and  sun-burnt  visage, 
with  his  green  apron,  appearing  to  indicate/ 

Old  Adam's  likeness,  set  to  dress  this  garden. 

The  major  domo,  for  such  he  was,  and  indisputably 
the  second  officer  of  state  in  the  barony,  (nay,  as  chief 
minister  of  the  interior,  superior  even  to  Baillie  Mac- 
wheeble,  in  his  own  department  of  the  kitchen  and  cel- 
lar)— the  major  domo  laid  down  his  spade,  slipped  on 
his  coat  in  haste,  and,  with  a  wrathful  look  at  Edward's 
guide,  probably  excited  by  his  having;  introduced  a  stran- 
ger while  he  was  engaged  in  this  laborious,  and,  as  he 
might  suppose  it,  degrading  office,  requested  to  know  the 
£:entleman's  commands.  Being  informed  that  he  wished 
to  pay  his  respects  to  his  master,  that  his  name  was  \'Va- 


00 


WAVERIEY. 


verley,  and  so  forth,  the  old  man's  countenance  assumed 
a  great  deal  of  respectful  importance.  "  He  could  take 
it  upon  his  conscience  to  say,  his  honour  would  have 
exceeding  pleasure  in  seeing  him.  Would  not  Mr. 
Waverley  choose  some  refreshment  after  his  journey  ? 
His  honour  was  with  the  folk  who  were  getting  doon  the 
hag  ;  the  twa  gardener  lads  (an  emphasis  on  the  word 
twa)  had  been  ordered  to  attend  him  ;  and  he  had  been 
just  amusing  himself  in  the  mean  time  with  dressing  Miss 
Rose's  flower-bed,  that  he  might  be  near  to  receive  his 
honour's  orders,  if  need  were  :  he  was  very  fond  of  a 
garden,  but  had  little  time  for  such  divertisements." 

"  He  canna  get  it  wrought  in  abune  twa  days  in  the 
w^eek,  at  no  rate  whatever,"  said  Edward's  fantastic 
conductor. 

A  grim  look  from  the  butler  chastised  his  interference, 
and  he  commanded  him,  by  the  name  of  Davie  Gellatley, 
in  a  tone  which  admitted  no  discussion,  to  look  for  his 
honour  at  the  <iark  hag,  and  tell  him  there  was  a  gentle- 
man from  the  south  had  arrived  at  the  Ha'. 

"  Can  this  poor  fellow  deliver  a  letter?"  asked  Edward. 

"  With  all  fidelity,  sir,  to  any  one  whom  he  respects. 
I  would  hardly  trust  him  with  a  long  message  by  word 
of  mouth — though  he  is  more  knave  than  fool." 

Waverley  delivered  his  credentials  to  I\Ir.  Gellatley, 
who  seemed  to  confirm  the  butler's  last  observation,  by 
twisting  his  features  at  him,  when  he  was  looking  another 
w^ay,  into  the  resemblance  of  the  grotesque  face  on  the 
bole  of  a  German  tobacco-pipe  ;  after  which,  with  an 
odd  conge  to  Waverley,  he  danced  off  to  discharge  his 
errand. 

"  He  is  an  innocent,  sir,"  said  the  butler  ;  "  there  is 
one  such  in  almost  every  town  in  the  country,  but  ours  is 
brought  far  ben.  He  used  to  work  a  day's  turn  weel 
eneugh  ;  but  he  help'd  Miss  Rose  when  she  was  flemit 
with  the  laird  of  Killancureit's  new  Enelish  bull,  and 
since  that  time  we  ca'  him  Davie  Do-little  ;  indeed  we 
might  ca'  him  Davie  Do-naething,  for  since  he  got  that 
gay  clothing,  to  please  his  honour  and  my  yoi'ng  mistress, 


MAVERLEY. 


61 


(g?€iat  folks  will  have  their  fancies,)  he  has  done  naething 
but  dance  up  and  doun  about  the  toun,  without  doing  a 
single  turn,  unless  trimming  the  laird's  fishing-wand  or 
busking  his  flies,  or  may  be  catching  a  dish  of  trouts  at 
any  over-time.  But  here  comes  Miss  Rose,  who,  I  take 
burden  upon  me  for  her,  will  be  especial  glad  to  see  one 
of  the  house  of  Waverley  at  her  father's  mansion  of 
Tully-Veolan." 

But  Rose  Bradwardine  deserves  better  of  her  unwor- 
thy historian,  than  to  be  introduced  at  the  end  of  a  chapter. 

In  the  meanwhile  it  may  be  noticed,  that  Waverley 
learned  two  things  from  this  colloquy  ;  that  in  Scotland 
a  single  house  was  called  a  town  and  a  natural  fool  an 
innocent. 


PHAPTER  X. 

Rose  Bradwardine  and  her  Father. 

Miss  Bradwardine   was  but  seventeen  ;  yet,  at  the 

last  races  of  the  county  town  of  ,  upon  her  health 

being  proposed  among  a  round  of  beauties,  the  Laird  of 
Bumperquaigh,  permanent  toast-master  and  croupier  of 
the  Bautherwhillery  Club,  not  only  said  More  to  the 
pledge  in  a  pint  bumper  of  Bordeaux,  but,  ere  pouring 
forth  the  libation,  denominated  the  divinity  to  whom  iv 
was  dedicated,  the  "  Rose  of  Tully-Veolan  ;"  upon 
which  festive  occasion,  three  cheers  were  given  by  all 
the  sitting  members  of  that  respectable  society,  whose 
throats  the  wine  had  left  capable  of  such  exertion.  Nay, 
I  am  well  assured,  that  the  sleeping  partner's  of  the  com- 
pany snorted  applause,  and  thai  although  strong  bumpers 
and  weak  brains  had  consigned  two  or  three  to  the  floor, 
yet  even  these,  fallen  as  they  were  from  their  high  estate, 
and  weltering — I  will  carry  the  parody  no  farther — utter- 

6       VOL.    I. 


62  WAVERLEY. 

ed  divers  inarticulate  sounds  intimating  their  assent  to 
the  motion. 

Such  unanimous  applause  could  not  be  extorted  but 
by  acknowledged  merit  ;  and  Rose  Bradwardine  not 
only  deserved  it,  -but  also  the  approbation  of  much  more 
rational  persons  than  the  Bauthervvhillery  Club  could 
have  mustered,  even  before  discussion  of  the  first  mag- 
num. She  was  indeed  a  very  pretty  girl  of  the  Scotch 
cast  of  beauty,  that  is,  with  a  profusion  of  hair  of  paley 
gold,  and  a  skin  hke  the  snow  of  her  own  mountains  in 
whiteness.  Yet  she  had  not  a  pallid  or  pensive  cast  of 
countenance  ;  her  features,  as  well  as  her  temper,  had  a 
lively  expression  ;  her  complexion,  though  not  florid, 
was  so  pure  as  to  seem  transparent,  and  the  shghtest 
emotion  sent  her  whole  blood  at  once  to  her  face  and 
neck.  Her  form,  though  under  the  common  size,  was 
remarkably  elegant,  and  her  motions  light,  easy,  and  un- 
embarrassed. She  came  from  another  part  of  the  gar- 
den to  receive  Captain  Waverley,  with  a  manner  that 
hovered  betv/een  bashfulness  and  courtesy. 

The  first  greetings  past,  Edward  learned  from  her  that 
the  dark  hag,  which  had  somewhat  puzzled  him  in  the 
butler's  account  of  his  master's  avocations,  had  nothing 
to  do  either  with  a  black  cat  or  a  broomstick,  but  was 
simply  a  portion  of  oak  copse  which  was  to  be  felled  that 
day.  She  offered,  with  embarrassed  civility,  to  show 
the  stranger  the  way  to  the  spot,  which  it  seems,  was  not 
far  distant  ;  but  they  were  prevented  by  the  appearance 
of  the  Baron  of  Bradwardine  in  person,  who,  summoned 
by  David  Gellatley,  now  appeared,  "on  hospitable  thoughts 
intent,"  clearing  the  ground  at  a  prodigious  rate  with 
swift  and  long  strides,  which  reminded  Waverley  of  the 
^even-league  boots  of  the  nursery  fable.  He  w^as  a  tall, 
thin,  athletic  figure,  old  indeed  and  gray-haired,  but  with 
every  muscle  rendered  as  tough  as  whip-cord  by  constant 
exercise.  He  was  dressed  carelessly,  and  more  like  a 
Frenchman  than  an  Englishman  of  the  period,  while, 
from  his  hard  features  and  perpendicular  rigidity  of  stat- 
lie  bore  some  resemblance  to  a  Swiss  officer  of  the 


WAVE  RLE  Y.  Oo 

guards,  who  had  resided  some  time  at  Paris,  and  caught 
the  costume,  but  nof  the  ease  or  manner  of  its  inhabi- 
tants. The  truth  was,  that  his  language  and  habits  were 
as  heterogeneous  as  his  external  appearance. 

Owing  to  his  natural  disposition  to  study,  or  perhaps 
to  a  very  general  Scottish  fashion  of  giving  young  men 
of  rank  a  legal  education,  he  had  been  bred  with  a  view- 
to  the  bar.  But  the  politics  of  his  family  precluding  the 
hope  of  his  rising  in  that  profession,  Mr.  Bradwardine 
travelled  with  high  reputation  for  several  years,  and 
made  some  campaigns  in  foreign  service.  After  his  de- 
melee  with  the  law  of  high  treason  in  1715,  he  had  lived 
in  retirement,  conversing  almost  entirely  with  those  of 
his  own  principles  in  the  vicinage.  The  pedantry  of  the 
lawyer,  superinduced  upon  the  military  pride  of  the  sol- 
dier, might  remind  a  modern  of  the  days  of  the  zealous 
volunteer  service,  when  the  bar-gown  of  our  pleaders 
was  often  flung  over  a  blazing  uniform.  To  this  must 
be  added  the  prejudices  of  ancient  birth  and  Jacobite 
politics,  greatly  strengthened  by  habits  of  solitary  and 
secluded  authority,  which,  though  exercised  only  within 
the  bounds  of  his  half-cultivated  estate,  was  there  indis- 
putable and  undisputed.  For,  as  he  used  to  observe, 
•'  the  lands  of  Bradwardine,  Tully-Veolan,  and  others, 
had  been  erected  into  a  free  barony  by  a  charter  from 
David  the  First,  cum  liberali  potest,  hahendi  curias  et 
justicias,  cum  fossa  et  furca  (lie  pit  and  gallows)  et 
saka  et  soka,  et  thol  et  theam,  et  infang-thief  et  outfang- 
thief,  sive  hand-hcthend.  sive  bak-barand.^'  The  peculiar 
meaning  of  all  these  cabalistical  words  few  or  none  could 
explain  ;  but  they  implied,  upon  the  whole,  that  the 
Baron  of  Bradwardine  might  imprison,  try,  and  execute 
his  vassals  and  tenants  at  his  pleasure.  Like  James 
the  First,  however,  the  present  possessor  of  this  author- 
ity was  more  pleased  in  talking  about  prerogative  than  in 
exercising  it  ;  and  excepting  that  he  imprisoned  two 
poachers  in  the  dungeon  of  the  old  tower  of  Tully-Veo- 
lan, where   they   were   sorely  frightened  by  ghosts,  and 


64  WAVERLEY. 

almost  eaten  by  rats,  and  that  he  set  an  old  woman  in 
the  jougs,  (or  Scottish  pillory)  forlsaying  "there  were 
inair  fules  in  the  laird's  ha'  house  than  Davie  Gellatley," 
1  do  not  learn  that  he  was  accused  of  abusing  his  high 
powers.  Still,  however,  the  conscious  pride  of  possess- 
ing them  gave  additional  importance  to  his  language  and 
deportment. 

At  his  first  address  to  Waverley,  it  would  seem  that 
the  hearty  pleasure  he  felt  to  behold  the  nephew  of  his 
friend  had  somewhat  discomposed  the  stiff  and  upright 
dignity  of  the  Baron  of  Bradwardine's  demeanour,  for 
the  tears  stood  in  the  old  gentleman's  eyes,  when,  hav- 
ing first  shaken  Edward  heartily  by  the  hand  in  the 
English  fashion,  he  embraced  him  a-la-mode  Francoise^ 
and  kissed  him  on  both  sides  of  his  face  ;  while  the 
hardness  of  his  gripe,  and  the  quantity  of  Scotch  snufF 
which  his  accolade  communicated,  called  corresponding 
drops  of  moisture  to  the  eyes  of  his  guest. 

"  Upon  the  honour  of  a  gentleman,"  he  said,  "  but  it 
makes  me  young  again  to  see  you  here,  Mr.Waverley  !  A 
w^orthy  scion  of  the  old  stock  of  Waverley-Honour — spes 
altera,  as  IMaro  hath  it — and  you  have  the  look  of  the  old 
hne,  Captain  Waverley  ;  not  so  portly  yet  as  my  old  friend 
Sir  Everard — mats  cela  viendra  avec  le  terns,  as  my 
Dutch  acquaintance.  Baron  Kikkitbroeck,  said  of  the 
sagesse  of  Madame  son  epouse. — And  so  ye  have 
mounted  the  cockade  .''  Right,  right ;  though  I  could 
have  wished  the  colour  different,  and  so  I  would  ha' 
deemed  might  Sir  Everard.  But  no  more  of  that  ;  I 
am  old,  and  times  are  changed. — And  how  does  the 
worthy  knight  baronet  and  the  fair  Mrs.  Rachael  ^ — 
Ah,  ye  laugh,  young  man  ;  but  she  was  the  fair  Mrs. 
Rachael  in  the  year  of  grace  seventeen  hundred  and 
sixteen  ;  but  time  passes — et  singula  pradarttur  anni — 
that  is  most  certain.  But  once  again,  ye  are  most 
heartily  welcome  to  my  poor  house  of  Tully-Veolan  ! 
— Hie  to  the  house.  Rose,  and  see  that  Alexander 
Saunderson  looks  out  the  old  Chateau  Margoux,  which 
1  sent  from  Bourdeaux  to  Dundee  in  the  year  1713." 


WAVERLEY.  65 

Rose  tripped  off  demurely  enough  till  she  turned  the 
first  corner,  and  then  ran  with  the  speed  of  a  fairy,  thai 
she  might  gain  leisure,  after  discharging  her  father's 
commission,  to  put  her  own  dress  in  order,  and  produce 
all  her  little  finery,  an  occupation  for  which  the  ap- 
proaching dinner-hour  left  but  little  time. 

"  We  cannot  rival  the  luxuries  of  your  English  table, 
Captain  AVaverley,or  give  you  the  epulce  lautiores  of  Wa- 
verley-Honour — I  say  epulce  rather  than  prandium,  be- 
cause the  latter  phrase  is  popular  ;  EpuJce  ad  senatum. 
prandium  vero  ad  populum  attinet,  says  Suetonius  Tran- 
quillus.  But  I  trust  ye  will  applaud  my  Bourdeaux  ;  c^est 
des  doux  oreilles,  as  Captain  Vinsauf  used  to  say — Vinum 
primce  notce,  the  Principal  of  St.  Andrews  denominated  it. 
And,  once  more,  Captain  Waverley,  right  glad  am  1 
that  ye  are  here  to  drink  the  best  my  cellar  can  make 
forthcoming." 

This  speech,  with  the  necessary  interjectional  an- 
swers, continued  from  the  lower  alley  where  they 
met,  up  to  the  door  of  the  house,  where  four  or  five 
servants  in  old-fashioned  liveries,  headed  by  Alexander 
Saunderson  the  butler,  who  now  bore  no  token  of  the 
sable  stains  of  the  garden,  received  them  in  grand 
costume, 

la  an  old  hall  hung  round  with  pikes  and  with  bows, 

With  old  bucklers  and  corslets  that  had  borne  many  shrewd  blows. 

With  much  ceremony,  and  still  more  real  kindness, 
the  Baron,  without  stopping  in  any  intermediate  apart- 
ment, conducted  his  guest  through  several  into  the  great, 
dining  parlour,  wainscoated  with  black  oak,  and  huns. 
round  with  the  pictures  of  his  ancestry,  where  a  tabl^- 
was  set  forth  in  form  for  six  persons,  and  an  old-fashior- 
ed  beaufet,  displayed  all  the  ancient  and  massive  platr 
of  the  Bradwardine  family.  A  bell  was  now  heard  & 
the  head  of  the  avenue  ;  for  an  old  man,  who  acted  a^ 
porter  upon  gala  days,  had  caught  the  alarm  given  b) 
Waverley's  arl^jval,  and,  repairing  to  his  post,  announcer! 
the  arrival  of  other  guests. 

6*       VOL.    I. 


66  WAVERLEY. 

These,  as  the  Baron  assured  his  young  friend,  were 
very  estimable  persons.  "  There  was  the  young  Laird 
of  Balmawhapple,  a  Falconer  by  surname,  of  the  house 
of  Glenfarquhar,  given  right  much  to  field-sports — 
gaudet  equis  et  canibus — but  a  very  discreet  young  gen- 
tleman. Then  there  was  the  Laird  of  Killancureit,  who 
^ad  devoted  his  leisure  initil  tillage  and  agricuhure,  and 
boasted  himself  to  be  possessed  of  a  bull  of  matchless  mer- 
it, brought  from  the  county  of  Devon  (the  Damnonia 
of  the  Romans,  if  we  can  trust  Robert  of  Cirencester.) 
He  is,  as  ye  may  well  suppose  from  such  a  tendency, 
but  of  yeoman  extraction — servahit  oclorem  testa  diu — 
and  I  believe,  between  ourselves,  his  grandsire  was  from 
the  wrong  side  of  the  Border — one  Bullsegg,  who  came 
hither  as  a  steward,  or  baihfF,  or  ground  officer,  or  some- 
thing in  that  department,  to  the  last  Girnigo  of  Killan- 
cureit, who  died  of  an  atrophy.  After  his  master's 
«^<eath,  sir, — ye  would  hardly  believe  such  a  scandal, — but 
this  Bullsegg,  being  portly  and  comely  of  aspect,  inter- 
married with  the  lady  dowager,  who  was  young  and 
amorous,  and  possessed  himself  of  the  estate,  which 
devolved  on  this  unhappy  woman  by  a  settlement 'of  her 
umvv^hile  husband,  in  direct  contravention  of  an  unre- 
corded taillie,  and  to  the  prejudice  of  the  disponer's  own 
flesh  and  blood,  in  the  person  of  his  natural  heir  and 
seventh  cousin,  Girnigo,  of  Tipperhewit,  whose  family 
was  so  reduced  hy  the  ensuing  law-suit,  that  his  repre- 
sentative is  now  serving  as  a  private  gentleman-sentinel 
in  the  Highland  Black  Watch.  But  this  gentleman,  Mr. 
Bullsegg  of  Killancureit  that  now  is,  has  good  blood  in 
his  veins  by  the  mother  and  grandmother,  wbo  were 
both  of  the  family  of  Pickletillim,  and  he  is  v/ell  liked 
and  looked  upon,  and  knows  his  own  place.  iVnd  God 
ioj-bid,  Captain  Waverley,  that  we  of  irreproachable 
lineage,  should  exult  over  him,  when  it  may  be,  that  in 
ihe  eighth,  ninth,  or  tenth  generation,  his  progeny  may 
rank,  in  a  manner,  with  the  old  gentry  of  the  country. 
Rank  and  ancestry,  sir,  sbould  be  the  last  words  in  the 
mouths  of  us  men  of  unblemished  race^ — vix  ea  nostro 


AVAVERIEY.  67 

COCO,  as  Naso  saith. — There  is,  besides,  a  clergyman  of 
the  true  (though  suffering,)  episcopal  church  of  Scotland. 
He  was  a  confessor  in  her  cause  after  the  year  1715, 
when  a  whiggish  mob  destroyed  his  meeting-house,  tore 
his  surplice,  and  plundered  his  dwelHng-house  of  four 
silver  spoons,  intromitting  also  with  his  mart  and  his 
meal-ark,  and  with  two  barrels,  one  of  single,  and  one 
of  double  ale,  besides  three  bottles  of  brandy.  My 
Baron-BailHe  and  doer,  Mr.  Duncan  Macwheeble,  is  the 
fourth  on  our  Hst.  There  is  a  question  owing  to  the  incer- 
titude of  ancient  orthography,  whether  he  belongs  to 
the  clan  of  Wheedle  or  of  Quibble,  but  both  have  pro- 
duced persons  eminent  in  the  law." 

And  thus  he  described  them  by  person  aiid  name, 
Thev  enter "d.  and  dinner  was  served  as  thev  caune. 


CHAPTER  XL 

The  Banquet. 

The  entertainment  was  ample,  and  handsome  accord- 
ing to  the  Scotch  ideas  of  the  period,  and  the  guests  did 
great  honour  to  it.  The  Baron  eat  hke  a  famished  sol- 
dier, the  Laird  of  Balmawhapple  Hke  a  sportsman,  Bulls- 
et;g  of  Killancureit  like  a  farmer,  AVaverley  himself  hke 
a  traveller,  and  BailHe  Macwheeble  like  all  four  to- 
gether, though,  either  out  of  more  respect,  or  in  order 
to  preserve  that  proper  dechnation  of  person  which 
showed  a  sense  that  he  was  in  the  presence  of  his 
patron,  he  sat  upon  the  edge  of  his  chair,  placed  at 
three  feet  distance  from  the  table,  and  achieved  a  com- 
munication with  his  plate  by  projecting  his  person  to- 
wards it  in  a  line  which  obUqued  from  the  bottom  of  his 
spine,  so  that  the  person  w^ho  sat  opposite  to  him  could 
only  see  the  foretop  of  his  riding  periwig. 


68  WAVERIEY. 

This  stooping  position  might  have  been  inconvenient 
to  another  person,  but  long  habit  made  it,  whether 
seated  or  walking,  perfectly  easy  to  the  worthy  Baillie. 
In  the  latter  posture,  it  occasioned,  no  doubt,  an  un- 
seemly projection  of  the  person  towards  those  who  hap- 
pened to  walk  behind  ;  but  those  being  at  all  times  his 
inferiors,  (for  Mr.  Macwheeble  w^as  very  scrupulous  in 
giving  place  to  all  others,)  he  cared  very  Httle  what  in- 
ference of  contempt  or  shght  regard  they  might  derive 
from  the  circumstance.  Hence,  when  he  waddled  across 
the  court  to  and  from  his  old  grey  pony,  he  some- 
what resembled  a  turnspit  walking  upon  ils  hind  legs. 

The  nonjuring  clergyman  was  a  pensive  and  interest- 
ing old  man,  with  much  the  air  of  a  sufferer  for  con- 
science sake.     He   was  one  of  those. 

Who,  uiideprived,  llieir  benefice  forsook. 

For  this  whim,  when  the  Baron  was  out  of  hearing,  the 
BaiUie  used  sometimes  gently  to  rally  Mr.  Kubrick,  up- 
braiding him  whh  the  nicety  of  his  scruples.  Indeed, 
it  must  be  owned,  that  he  himself,  though  at  heart  a 
keen  partisan  of  the  exiled  family,  had  kept  pretty  fair 
vvith  all  the  different  turns  of  the  state  in  his  time  ;  so  that 
Davie  Gellatley  once  described  him  as  a  particularly  good 
man,  who  had  a  very  quiet  and  peaceful  conscience, 
that  never  did  him  any  harm. 

When  the  dinner  was  removed,  the  Baron  announced 
the  health -of  the  king,  politely  leaving  to  the  consciences 
of  his  guests  to  drink  to  the  sovereign  de facto  or  dp 
jure,  as  their  politics  inclined.  The  conversation  now 
became  general ;  and,  shortly  afterwards,  Miss  Brad- 
wardine,  who  had  done  the  honours  with  natural  grace 
and  simplicity,  retired,  and  was  soon  followed  by  the 
clergyman.  Among  the  rest  of  the  party,  the  wine, 
which  fully  justified  the  encomiums  of  the  landlord, 
trowed  freely  round,  although  Waverlcy,  with  some  dif- 
ficulty  obtained   the  privilege   of  sometimes  neglecting 


WAVERLEY.  69 

his  glass.  At  length,  as  the  evening  grew  more  late, 
the  Baron  made  a  private  signal  to  Mr.  Saunders  Saun- 
derson,  or,  as  he  facetiously  denominated  him,  Alexan- 
der ah  Alexandra,  who  left  the  room  with  a  nod,  and 
soon  after  returned,  his  grave  countenance  manthng  with 
a  solemn  and  mysterious  smile,  and  placed  before  his 
master  a  small  oaken  casket,  mounted  with  brass  orna- 
ments of  curious  form.  The  Baron,  drawing  out  a  pri- 
vate key,  unlocked  the  casket,  raised  the  Hd,  and  pro- 
duced a  golden  goblet  of  a  singular  and  antique  appear- 
ance, moulded  into  the  shape  of  a  rampant  bear,  which 
the  owner  regarded  with  a  look  of  mingled  reverence, 
pride,  and  delight,  that  irresistibly  reminded  Waverley 
of  Ben  Jonson's  Tom  Otter,  with  his  Bull,  Horse,  and 
Dog,  as  that  wag  wittily  denominated  his  chief  carous- 
ing cups.  But  Mr.  Bradwardine,  turning  towards  him 
with  complacency,  requested  him  to  observe  this  curious 
relique  of  the   olden  time. 

"It  represents,"  he  said,  ''  the  chosen  crest  of  our 
family,  a  bear,  as  ye  observe,  and  rampant ;  because  a 
good  herald  will  depict  every  animal  in  its  noblest  pos- 
ture, as  a  horse  salient,  a  greyhound  currant,  and,  as  may 
be  inferred,  a  ravenous  animal  in  actu  ferociori,  or  in  a 
voracious,  lacerating,  and  devouring  posture.  Now,  sir, 
we  hold  this  most  honourable  achievement  by  the  wap- 
pen-brief,  or  concession  of  arms  of  Frederick  Red-beard, 
Emperor  of  Germany,  to  my  predecessor  Godmund 
Bradwardine,  it  being  the  crest  of  a  gigantic  Dane,  whom 
he  slew  in  the  hsts  in  the  Holy  Land,  on  a  quarrel  touch- 
ing the  chastity  of  the  emperor's  spouse  or  daughter,  tra- 
dition saith  not  precisely  which  ;  and  thus  as  Virgihus 
hath  it — 

Mutemus  clypeos,  Danaumque  insignia  nobis 
Aptemus. 

Then  for  the  cup.  Captain  Waverley,  it  was  wrought 
by  the  command  of  Saint  Duthac,  Abbot  of  Aberbro- 
thock,  for  behoof  of  another  baron  of  the  house  of  Brad- 
wardine, who  had  vaUantly  defended  the  patrimony  of 
that  monastery  against  certain  encroaching  nobles.     It 


70  WAVERIEY, 

is  properly  termed  the  Blessed  Bear  of  Bradvvardine, 
(though  old  Dr.  Doubleit  used  jocosely  to  call  it  Ursa 
Major,)  and  was  supposed,  in  old  and  catholic  times, 
to  be  invested  with  certain  properties  of  a  mystical  and 
supernatural  quality.  And  though  I  give  not  in  to  such 
anilia,  it  is  certain  it  has  always  been  esteemed  a  sol- 
emn standard  cup  and  heirloom  of  our  house  3  nor  is  it 
ever  used  but  upon  seasons  of  high  festival,  and  such 
1  hold  to  be  the  arrival  of  the  heir  of  Sir  Everard  un- 
der my  roof;  and  I  devote  this  draught  to  the  health 
and  prosperity  of  the  ancient  and  highly-to-be-honoured 
house  of  Waverley." 

During  this  long  harangue,  he  carefully  decanted  a 
cobwebbed  bottle  of  claret  into  the  goblet,  which  held 
nearly  an  English  pint ;  and,  at  the  conclusion,  deliver- 
ing the  bottle  to  the  butler,  to  be  held  carefully  in  the 
same  angle  with  the  horizon,  he  devoutly  quaffed  off 
the  contents  of  the  Blessed  Bear  of  Bradwardine. 

Edward,  with  horror  and  alarm,  beheld  the  animal 
making  his  rounds,  and  thought  with  great  anxiety  upon 
the  appropriate  motto,  '*  Beware  the  Bear  ;"  but  plainly 
foresaw,  that,  as  none  of  the  guests  scrupled  to  do  him 
this  extraordinary  honour,  a  refusal  on  his  part  to  pledge 
their  courtesy  would  be  extremely  ill  received.  Resolv- 
ing, therefore,  to  submit  to  this  last  piece  of  tyranny, 
and  then  to  quit  the  table,  if  possible,  and  confiding  in 
the  strength  of  his  constitution,  he  did  justice  to  the 
company  in  the  contents  of  the  Blessed  Bear,  and  felt 
less  inconvenience  from  the  draught  than  he  could  pos- 
sibly have  expected.  The  others,  whose  time  had  been 
more  actively  employed,  began  to  show  symptoms  of  in- 
novation,— "  the  good  wine  did  its  good  office."  The 
frost  of  etiquette,  and  pride  of  birth,  began  to  give  way 
before  the  genial  blessings  of  this  benign  constellation, 
and  the  formal  appellatives  with  which  the  three  dignita- 
ries had  hitherto  addressed  each  other,  were  now  fa- 
miliarly abbreviated  into  Tully,  Bally,  and  Killie.  When 
a  few  rounds  had  passed,  the  two  latter,  after  whisper- 
ing together,  craved  permission  (a  joyful  hearing  for  Ed- 


AVAVERXEY.  71 

ward)  to  ask  the  grace  cup.  This,  after  some  delay, 
was  at  length  produced,  and  Waverley  concluded  the 
orgies  of  Bacchus  were  terminated  for  the  evening. 
He  was  nevermore  mistaken  in  his  life»_ 

As  the  guests  had  left  their  horses  at  the  small  inn,  or 
chano;e-house,  as  it  was  called,  of  the  village,  the  Baron 
could  not,  in  politeness,  avoid  walking  with  them  up  the 
avenue,  and  Waverley,  from  the  same  motive,  and  to  en- 
joy, after  this  feverish  revel,  the  cool  summer  evening, 
attended  the  party.  But  when  they  arrived  at  Luckie 
Macleary's,  the  Lairds  of  Bahnawhapple  and  Killancureit 
declared  their  determination  to  acknowledge  their  sense  of 
the  hospitality  of  Tully-Veolan,  hy  partaking,  with  their 
entertainer  and  his  guest  Captain  Waverley,  what  they 
technically  called  dv.soch  an  dore,  a  stirrup-cup,  to  the 
lionour  of  the  Baron's  roof  tree. 

It  must  be  noticed,  that  the  Baillie,  knowing  by  expe- 
rience that  the  day's  joviality,  which  had  been  hitherto 
sustained  at  the  expense  of  his  patron,  might  terminate 
partly  at  his  own,  had  mounted  his  spavined  grey  pony, 
and,  between  gaiety  of  heart,  and  alarm  for  being 
hooked  into  a  reckoning  spurred  him  into  a  hobbling 
canter,  (a  trot  was  out  of  the  question,)  and  had  al- 
ready cleared  the  village.  The  others  entered:!  the 
change-house,  leading  Edward  in  unresisting  submis- 
sion;  for  his  landlord  whispered  him,  that  to  demur  to 
such  an  overture  would  be  construed  into  a  hi2;h  mis- 
demeanour  against  the  leges  conviviaJes,  or  regulations 
of  genial  compotation.  Widow  Macleary  seemed  to 
have  expected  this  visit,  as  wellshe  might,  for  it  was  the 
usual  consummation  of  merry-bouts,  not  only  at  Tully- 
Veolan,  but  at  most  other  gentlemen's  houses  in  Scot- 
land, Sixty  Years  Since.  The  guests  thereby  at  once 
acquitted  themselves  of  their  burden  of  gratitude  to 
their  entertainer's  kindness,  encouraged  the  trade  of 
}]is  change-house,  did  honour  to  the  place  which  af- 
forded harbour  to  their  horses,  and  indemnified  them- 
selves  for  the    previous    restraints  imposed   by  private 


72  WAVERLET. 

hospitality,  by  spending  what  FalstafF  calls  the  sweet  of 
the  night,  in  the  genial  Hcense  of  a  tavern. 

Accordingly,  in  full  expectation  of  these  distinguish- 
ed guests,  Luckie  Macleary  had  swept  her  house  for 
the  first  time"  this  fortnight,  tempered  her  turf-fire  to 
such  a  heat  as  the  season  required  in  her  damp  hovel 
even  at  midsummer,  set  forth  her  deal  table  newly  wash- 
ed, propped  its  lame  foot  with  a  fragment  of  turf,  ar- 
ranged four  or  five  stools  of  huge  and  clumsy  form 
upon  the  sites  which  best  suited  the  inequalities  of  her 
clay-floor  ;  and  having,  moreover,  put  on  her  clean  toy, 
rokelay,  and  scarlet  plaid,  gravely  awaited  the  arrival  of 
the  company,  in  full  hope  of  custom  and  profit.  When 
they  were  seated  under  the  sooty  rafters  of  Luckie  Mac-v 
leary's  only  apartment,  thickly  tapestried  with  cobwebs, 
their  hostess,  who  had  already  taken  her  cue  from  the 
Laird  of  Balmawhapple,  appeared  with  a  huge  pewter 
measuring-pot,  containing  at  least  three  English  quarts, 
familiarly  denominated  a  Tappit  Hen,  and  which,  in  the 
language  of  the  hostess,  reamed  {i.  e.  mantled)  with 
excellent  claret  just  drawn  from  the  cask. 

It  was  soon  plain  that  what  crumbs  of  reason  the 
Bear  had  not  devoured,  were  to  be  picked  up  by  the 
Hen  5  but  the  confusion  which  appeared  to  prevail  favoured 
Edward's  resolution  to  evade  the  gaily  circling  glass. 
The  rest  began  to  talk  thick,  and  at  once,  each  perform- 
ing his  own  part  in  the  conversation,  without  the  least 
respect  to  his  neighbour.  The  Baron  of  Bradwardine 
sung  French  chansons-a-hoire,  and  spouted  pieces  of 
Latin  ;  Killancureit  talked,  in  a  steady  unalterable  dull 
key,  of  top-dressing  and  bottom-dressing,  and  year- 
.olds,  and  gimmers,  and  dinmonts,  and  stots,  and  runts, 
and  kyloes,  and  a  proposed  turnpike-act ;  while  Balma- 
whapple, in  notes  exalted  above  both,  extolled  his  horse, 
his  hawks,  and  a  greyhound  called  Whistler.  In  the 
middle  of  this  din,  the  Baron  repeatedly  implored  si- 
lence ;  and  when  at  length  the  instinct  of  polite  disci- 
pline so  far  prevailed  that  for  a  moment  he  obtained  it, 
he  hastened  to  beseech  their  attention  "  unto  a  mihtary 


WAVERLET. 


73 


arietle,  which  was  a  particular  favourite  of  the  Mare- 
chal  Due  de  Berwick ;"  then,  imitating,  as  well  as  he 
could,  the  manner  and  tone  of  a  French  musquetaire> 
immediately  commenced, — 

Mon  cceur  volage,  dit  elle. 

N'est  pas  pour  vous  garcon, 
Est  pour  un  homme  de  gtierre. 

Qui  a  barbe  au  menton. 

Lon.  Lon,  Laridoa. 

Qui  port  cliapeau  a  plume, 

Soulier  a  rouge  talon. 
Qui  joue  de  la  flute, 

Aussi  de  violon. 

Lon,  Lon,  Laridon. 

Balmawhapple  could   hold  no  longer,  but  broke  in  with 

what  he  called  a  d d  good   song,  composed  by  Gib- 

by  Gaethroughwi't,  the  piper  of  Cupar,  and  without 
wasting  more  time,  struck  up, — 

It's  up  Glenbarchan's  braes  I  gaed, 
And  o'er  the  bent  of  Killiebraid, 
And  mony  a  weary  cast  1  made. 
To  cuittle  the  moor-fowl's  tail. 

The  Baron,  whose  voice  was  drowned  in  the  louder 
and,  more  obstreperous  strains  of  Balmawhapple,  now 
dropped  the  competition,  but  continued  to  hum  Lon, 
Lon,  Laridon,  and  to  regard  the  successful  candidate 
for  the  attention  of  the  company  with  an  eye  of  disdaioj 
while  Balmawhapple  proceeded, — 

If  up  a  bonny  black-cock  siiould  spring, 
To  whistle  him  down  wi'  a  slug  in  his  wing, 
And  strap  him  on  to  my  lunzie  string, 
Right  seldom  would  I  fail. 

After  an  ineffectual  attempt  to  recover  the  second 
verse,  he  sung  the  first  over  again  ;  and,  in  prosecution 

7       VOL.    I.  '^ 


74  WAVERLEY. 

of  his  triumph,  declared  there  was  "  more  sense  in  that 
than  in  all  the  derry-do-ngs  of  France,  and  Fifeshire  to 
the  boot  of  it."  The  Baron  only  answered  with  a  long 
pinch  of  sniifF,  and  a  glance  of  infinite  contempt.  But 
those  noble  allies,  the  Bear  and  the  Hen,  had  emanci- 
ifated  the  vouns;  laird  from  the  habitual  reverence  in 
hich  he  held  Bradwardine  at  other  times.  He  pro- 
nounced the  claret  shilpit,  and  demanded  brandy  with 
great  vociferation.  It  was  brought ;  and  now  the  Demon 
of  Politics  envied  even  the  harmony  arising  from  this 
Dutch  concert,  merely  because  there  was  not  a  wrathful 
iOte  in  the  strange  compound  of  sounds  which  it  pro- 
Juced.  Inspired  by  her,  the  Laird  of  Balmawhapple, 
now  superior  to  the  nods  and  winks  with  which  the 
Baron  of  Bradwardine,  in  dehcacy  to  Edv.ard,  had 
hitherto  checked  his  entering  upon  political  discussion, 
demanded  a  bumper  with  the  lungs  of  a  Stentor,  *' to 
the  little  gentleman  in  black  velvet  who  did  such  ser- 
vice in  1702,  and  may  the  v/hite  horse  break  his  neck 
over  a  mound  of  his  making." 

Edward  was  not  at  that  moment  clear-headed  enough 
to  remember  that  King  William's  fall,  which  occasioned 
his  death,  was  said  to   he   owing  to  his  horse,  stumbling 
at   a  mole-hill,   yet   felt  inclined  to  take    umbrage   at  a 
'oast,  which  seemed,  from  the  glance  of  Balmawhapple's 
ye,  to  have  a  peculiar    and    uncivil    reference   to^the 
government  which  he  served.       But  ere  he  could  inter- 
fere, the  Baron  of  Bradwardine  had  taken  up  the  quar- 
el.      "Sir,  whatever  my  sentiments,   tanqiimn  privaiuSy 
aay  be  in  such  matters,  I  shall  not  tamely  endure  your 
saying  any  thing  that  may  impinge   upon  the  honourable 
feelings  of  a   gentleman   under   my    roof.      Sir,  if  you 
lave  no  respect  for  the  laws  of  urbanity,  do  ye  not  re- 
pect    the   military  oath,   the   sacramentum  miUtare,  by 
vhich    every  officer   is  bound   to   the    standards    under 
A-hich  he  is'  enrolled  ?     Look  at  Titus   Livius,  what  he 
.-ays  of  those  Roman  goldiers  who   were  so  unhappy  as 
exuere  sacramentwn, — to  i^nounce  their  legion?.ry  outh  ; 


WAVEIILEY.  75 

but  ye  are  ignorant,  sir,  alike  of  ancient  history  and  mod- 
ern courtesy." 

"  Not  so  ignorant  as  ye  would  pronounce  me,"  roar- 
ed Balmawhapple.  "  I  ken  weel  that  you  mean  tiie 
Solemn  League  and  Covenant ;  but  if  a'  the  vvhigs  in 
hell  had  taken  the " 

Here  the  Baron  and  Waverley  spoke  both  at  once, 
the  former  calling  out,  ''  Be  silent,  sir  !  ye  not  only 
show  your  ignorance,  but  disgrace  your  native  country 
before  a  stranger  and  an  Englishman  ;"  and  Waverley, 
at  the  same  moment,  entreating  Mr.  Bradwardine  to  pci- 
mit  him  to  reply  to  an  affront  which  seemed  levelled  et 
him  personally.  But  the  Baron  was  exalted  by  wine, 
wrath,  and  scorn,  above  all  sublunary  considerations. 

"  1  crave  you  to  be  hushed,  Captain  Waverley  ;  yon 
are  elsewhere,  peradventure,  sui  juris, — foris-familiated, 
that  is,  and  entitled,  it  may  be,  to  think  and  resent  lor 
yourself ;  but  in  my  domain,  in  this  poor  Barony  of 
Bradwardine,  and  under  this  roof,  v/hich  is  quasi  mine, 
being  held  by  tacit  relocation  by  a  tenant  at  will,  I  am  t -i 
loco  parentis  to  you,  and  bound  to  see  you  scathlesi. — 
And  for  you,  Mr.  Falconer,  of  Balmawhapple,  I  warii 
ye  let  me  see  no  more  aberrations  from  the  paths  (^i 
good  manners." 

"  And  I  tell  you,  Mr.  Cosmo  Comyne  Bradwardine,  of 
Bradwardine  and  Tully-Veolan,"  retorted  tlie  sportsman, 
in  huge  disdain,  "  that  I'll  make  a  moor-cock  of  ihe 
man  that  refuses  my  toast,  whether  it  be  a  crop-eared 
English  Whig  wi'  a  black  ribband  at  his  lag,  or  ane  v/lia 
deserts  his  ain  friends  to  claw  favour  wi'  the  rats  of 
Hanover." 

In  an  instant  both  rapiers  were  brandished,  and  S0iXi« 
desperate  passes  exchanged.  Balraaw^happle  was  young- 
stout,  and  active  ;  but  the  Baron,  infinitely  more  master 
of  his  weapon,  would,  hke  Sir  Toby  Belch,  have  tickled 
his  opponent  other  gates  than  he  did,  had  he  not  been 
under  the  influence  of  Ursa  Major. 

Edward  rushed  forward  toJnterfere  between  the  com- 
batants, but  the  prostrate  bulk  of  the  Laird  of  Killan- 


76  AVAVERLEY. 

cureit,  over  which  he  stumbled,  intercepted  his  passage. 
How  Killancureit  happened  to  be  in  this  recumbent  pos- 
ture, at  so  interesting  a  moment,  was  never  accurately 
known.  Some  thought  he  was  about  to  ensconce  him- 
self under  the  table  ;  he  himself  alleged  that  he  stum- 
bled in  the  act  of  lifting  a  joint-stool,  to  prevent  mischief, 
by  knocking  down  Balmawhapple.  Be  that  as  it  may, 
if  readier  aid  than  either  his  or  Waverley's  had  not  in- 
terposed, there  would  certainly  have  been  bloodshed. 
But  the  well-known  clash  of  swords,  which  was  no  great 
stranger  to  her  dwelling,  aroused  Luckie  Macleary  as 
she  sat  quietly  beyond  the  hallan,  or  earthen  partition  of 
the  cottage,  with  eyes  employed  on  Boston's  Crook  of 
the  Lot,  while  her  ideas  were  engaged  in  summing  up 
the  reckoning.  She  boldly  rushed  in,  with  the  shrill 
expostulation,  "  Wad  their  honours  slay  ane  another 
there,  and  bring  discredit  on  an  honest  widow-woman's 
house,  when  there  was  a'  the  lea-land  in  the  country  to 
fight  upon  ?•'  a  remonstrance  which  she  seconded  by 
flinging  her  plaid  with  great  dexterity  over  the  weapons 
of  the  combatants.  The  servants  by  this  time  rushed 
in,  and  being,  by  great  chance,  tolerably  sober,  separated 
the  incensed  opponents,  with  the  assistance  of  Edward 
and  Killancureit.  The  latter  led  off  Balmawhapple, 
cursing,  swearing,  and  vowing  revenge  against  every 
whig,  presbyterian,  and  fanatic  in  England  and  Scotland, 
from  John-o'-Groat's  to  the  Land's  End,  and  was  with 
difficulty  2;ot  to  horse.  Our  hero,  with  the  assistance  of 
Saunders  Saunderson,  escorted  the  Baron  of  Bradwar- 
dine  to  his  own  dwelling,  but  could  not  prevail  upon  him 
to  retire  to  bed  until  he  had  made  a  long  and  learned 
apology  for  the  events  of  the  evening,  of  which,  how- 
ever, there  was  not  a  word  intelligible,  except  something 
about  the  Centaurs  and  the  LapithaB. 


WAVERI.EY. 


CHAPTER  Xn. 

Repentance,  and  a  Reconciliation. 

Waverley  was  unaccuslomed  to  the  use  of  wine, 
excepting  with  groat  temperance.  He  slept  therefore 
soundly  till  late  in  the  succeeding  morning,  and  then 
awakened  to  a  painful  recollection  of  the  scene  of  the 
preceding  evening.  He  had  received  a  personal  affront, 
— he,  a  gentleman,  a  soldier,  and  a  Waverley.  True, 
the  person  who  offered  it  was  not,  at  the  time  it  was 
given,  possessed  of  the  moderate  share  of  sense  which 
nature  had  allotted  him  ;  true  also  in  resenting  this  insuh, 
he  would  break  the  laws  of  Heaven,  as  well  as  of  his 
country  ;  true,  in  doing  so,  he  might  take  the  life  of  a 
young  man  who  perhaps  respectably  discharged  the  social 
duties,  and  render  his  family  miserable  ;  or  he  might 
lose  his  own  ; — no  pleasant  alternative  even  to  the  brav- 
est, when  it  is  debated  coolly  and  in  private. 

All  this  pressed  on  his  mind  ;  yet  the  original  state- 
ment recurred  with  the  same  irresistible  force.  He  had 
received  a  personal  insult  ;  he  was  of  the  house  of  Wa- 
verley ;  and  he  bore  a  commission.  There  was  no  al- 
ternative ;  and  he  descended  to  the  breakfast  parloi  .r 
with  the  intention  of  taking  leave  of  the  family,  ana 
writing  to  one  of  his  brother  ofiicers  to  meet  him  at  the 
inn  mid-way  between  Tully-Veolan  and  the  town  where 
they  v/ere  quartered,  in  order  that  he  might  convey  suc>i 
a  message  to  the  Laird  of  Balmawhapple  as  the  cireun~j- 
stances  seem.ed  to  demand.  He  found  Miss  Bradwardin*^ 
presiding  over  the  tea  and  coffee,  the  table  loaded  vnin 
warm  bread,  both  of  flour  and  barley,  in  the  shape  of 
loaves,  cakes,  biscuits,  and  other  varieties,  together  with 
eggs,  reindeer  ham,  mutton  aad  beef  ditto,  smoked  aai- 

^7*       VOL.    I. 


'<5  WAVERXEY. 

mon,  marmalade,  and  all  the  other  delicacies  which  in- 
duced even  Johnson  himself  to  extol  the  luxury  of  a 
Scolcli  breakfast  above  that  of  all  other  countries.  A 
mess  of  oatmeal  porridge,,  flanked  by  a  silver  jug,  which 
held  an  equal  mixture  of  cream  and  butter-milk,  was 
placed  for  the  Baron's  share  of  this  repast ;  but  Rose 
observed  he  had  walked  out  early  in  the  morning,  after 
giving  orders  that  his  guest  should  not  be  disturbed. 

Waverley  sat  down  almost  in  silence,  and  with  an  air 
of  absence  and  abstraction,  which  could  not  give  Miss 
Bradvvardine  a  favourable  opinion  of  his  talents  for  con- 
versation. He  answered  at  random  one  or  two  observa- 
tions which  she  ventured  to  make  upon  ordinary  topics  ; 
so  that  feeling  herself  almost  repulsed  in  her  efibrts  at 
entertaining  him,  and  secretly  wondering  that  a  scarlet 
coat  should  cover  no  belter  breeding,  she  left  him  to  his 
mental  amusement  of  cursing  Dr.  Doubleit's  favourite 
constellation  of  Ursa  Major,  as  the  cause  of  all  the  mis- 
chief which  had  already  happened,  and  was  likely  to  en- 
sue. At  oitce  he  started,  and  his  colour  heightened,  as, 
looking  toward  the  window,  he  beheld  the  Baron  and 
young  Balmawhapple  pass  arm  in  arm,  apparently  in  deep 
(Conversation.  " Did  Mr.  Falconer  sleep  here  last  night  ?" 
Rose,  not  much  pleased  with  the  abruptness  of  the  first 
question  which  the  young  stranger  had  addressed  to  her, 
answered  drily  in  the  negative,  and  the  conversation 
again  sunk  into  silence. 

At  this  moment  Mr.  Saunderson  appeared,  with  a  mes- 
sage from  his  master,  requesting  to  speak  with  Captain 
Waverley  in  another  apartment.  VVith  a  heart  which 
beat  a  little  quicker,  not  indeed  from  fear,  but  from  un- 
certainty and  anxiety,  Edward  obeyed  the  summons. 
He  found  the  two  gentlemen  standing  together,  an  air  of 
complacent  dignity  on  the  brov/  of  the  Baron,  while  sonic- 
thiug  like  sullenness  or  shame,  or  both,  blanked  the  bold 
visage  of  Balmawhapple.  The  former  slipped  his  arm 
through  that  of  the  latter,  and  thus  seeming  to  walk  with 
him,  while  in  reality  he  led  him,  advanced  to  meet  Wa- 
verley, and,  stopping  in  the  midst  of  the  apartment,  made 


WAVE  RLE  Y.  79 

in  great  state  the  following  oration  :  "  Captain  Waverley 
—my  young  and  esteemed  friend,  Mr.  Falconer  of  Bal- 
mawhapple,  has  craved  of  my  age  and  experience,  as  of 
one  not  wholly  unskilled  in  the  dependencies  and  punc- 
tilios of  the  duello  or  raonomachia,  ta  be  his  interlocutor 
in  expressing  to  you  the  regref  with  which  he  calls  to 
remembrance  certain  passages  of  our  symposion  last 
night,  which  could  not  but  be  highly  displeasing  to  you, 
as  serving  for  the  time  under  this  present  existing  gov- 
ernment. He  craves  you,  sir,  to  drown  in  oblivion  the 
memory  of  such  solecisms  against  the  laws  of  politeness, 
as  being  what  his  better  reason  disavo^vs,  and  to  receive 
the  hand  which  he  offers  you  in  amity  ;  and  I  must  needs 
assure  you,  that  nothing  less  than  a  sense  of  being  dans 
son  tort,  as  a  gallant  French  chevalier,  Mons.  Le  Bre- 
tailleur,  once  said  to  me  on  such  an  occasion,  and  an 
opinion  also  of  your  peculiar  merit,  conld  have  extorted 
such  concessions  ;  for  he  and  all  his  family  are,  and  have 
been,  time  out  of  mind,  mavortia  peciora,  as  Buchanan 
saith,  a  bold  and  warlike  sept,  or  people." 

Edward  immediately,  and  whh  natural  politeness,  ac- 
cepted the  hand  v.hich  Balmawhapple,  or  rather  the 
Baron  in  his  character  of  mediator,  extended  towards 
him.  ."  It  was  impossible,"  he  said,  "  for  liim  to  remem- 
ber what  a  gentleman  expressed  his  wish  he  had  not  ot- 
tered ;  and  he  willingly  imputed  what  had  passed  to  the 
exuberant  festivity  of  the  day." 

"That  is  very  handsomely  said,"  answ^ered  the  Baron  ; 
"  for  undoubtedly,  if  a  man  be  eorius,  or  intoxicated, 
an  incident  which  on  solemm  and  festive  occasions,  may 
and  will  take  place  in  the  life  of  a  man  of  honour  ;  and 
if  the  same  gentleman,  being  fresh  and  sober,  recants  the 
contumelies  which  he  hath  spoken  in  his  liquor,  it  must 
be  held  viinim  locutum  est ;  the  words  cease  to  be  his 
ovirn.  Yet  would  I  not  find  this  exculpation  jelevant  in 
the  case  of  one  who  was  ebriosus,  or  a  habitual  drunkard  : 
because,  if  such  person  choose  to  pass  the  greater  part 
of  his  time  in  the  predicament  of  intoxication,  he  haih 
no  title  to   be  exeemed  from  the  obligations  of  the  code 


80  WAVERLEY. 

of  politeness,  but  should  learn  to  deport  himself  peace- 
ably and  courteously  when  under  influence  of  the  vinous 
stimulus.  And  now  let  us  proceed  to  breakfast,  and 
think  no  more  of  this  daft  business." 

I  must  confess,  whatever  inference  may  be  drawn 
from  the  circumstance,  that  Edward,  after  so  satisfacto- 
ry an  explanation,  did  much  greater  honour  to  the  deli- 
cacies of  Miss  Bradwardine's  breakfast-table  than  his 
commencement  had  promised.  Balmawhapple,  on  the 
contrary,  seemed  embarrassed  and  dejected  ;  and  Wa- 
verley  now,  for  the  first  time,  observed  that  his  arm  was 
in  a  sling,  which  seemed  to  account  for  the  awkward  and 
embarrassed  manner  with  which  he  had  presented  his 
hand.  To  a  question  from  Miss  Bradwardine,  he  mut- 
tered, in  answer,  something  about  his  horse  having  fallen  ; 
and,  seeming  desirous  to  escape  both  from  the  subject 
and  the  company,  he  arose  as  soon  as  breakfast  was  over, 
made  his  bow  to  the  party,  and,  declining  the  Baron's 
invitation  to  tarry  till  after  dinner,  mounted  his  horse  and 
returned  to  his  own  home. 

Waverley  now  announced  his  purpose  of  leaving  Tully- 
Veolan  early  enough  after  dinner  to  gain '  the  stage  at 
which  he  meant  to  sleep  ;  but  the  unaffected  and  deep 
mortification  with  which  the  gocd-natured  and  affection- 
ate old  gentleman  heard  the  proposal,  quite  deprived  him 
of  courage  to  persist  in  it.  No  sooner,  had  he  gained 
Waverley's  consent  to  lengthen  his  visit  for  a  few  days, 
than  he  laboured  to  remove  the  grounds  upon  which  he 
conceived  he  had  meditated  a  more  early  retreat.  "  I 
would  not  have  you  opine,  Captain  Waverley,  tliat  1  am 
by  practice  or  precept  an  advocate  of  ebriety,  thcugh  it 
may  be  that,  in  our  fe.siivity  of  last  night,  some  of  ova- 
friends,  if  not  perchance  altogether  elrii,  or  drunken, 
were,  to  say  the  least,  ebrioli,  by  which  the  ancients  de- 
bigneid  those  who  v^ere  fuddled,  or,  as  your  English  ver- 
nacular and  metaphorical  phrase  goes,  half-seas  over. 
'Not  that  I  would  so  insinuate  respecting  you.  Captain 
Waverley,  who,  like  a  prudent  youth,  did  rather  abstain 
from  pot-.tion  ;  nor  can  it  be  truly  said  of  myself,  who, 


WAVERIEY.  81 

having  assisted  at  the  tables  of  many  great  generals  and 
marechals  at  their  solemn  carousals,  have  the  art  to  carry 
my  wine  discreetly,  and  did  not,  during  the  whole  even- 
ing as  ye  must  have  doubtless  observed,  exceed  the 
bounds  of  a  modest  hilarity." 

There  was  no  refusing  assent  to  a  proposition  so  de- 
cidedly laid  down  by  him,  who  undoubtedly  was  the  best 
judge  ;  although,  had  Edward  formed  his  opinion  from 
his  own  recollections,  he  would  have  pronounced  that  the 
Baron  was  not  only  ebriolus,  but  verging  to  become 
ebrius  ;  or,  in  plain  English,  w^as  incomparably  the  most 
drunk  of  the  party,  except  perhaps  his  antagonist,  the 
Laird  of  Balraawhapple.  However,  having  received  the 
expected,  or  rather  the  required,  compliment  on  his  so- 
briety, the  Baron  proceeded — "  No,  sir,  though  I  am 
myself  of  a  strong  temperamegit,  I  abhor  ebriety,  and 
detest  those  who  swallow  wine  gula;  causa,  for  the  ob- 
lectation  of  the  gullet.  Albeit  I  might  deprecate  the 
law  of  Pittacus  of  ]\Iitylene,  who  punished  doubly  a 
crime  committed  under  the  influence  of  Liber  Pater  ; 
nor  would  I  utterly  accede  to  the  objurgation  of  the 
younger  Plinius,  in  the  fourteenth  book  of  his  '  Historia 
Naturalis.'  No,  sir,  I  distinguish,  I  discriminate,  and 
approve  of  wine  so  far  only  as  it  maketh  glad  the  face, 
or,  in  the  language  of  Flaccus,  recepto  amico.^^ 

Thus  terminated  the  apology  which  the  Baron  of 
Bradwardine  thought  it  necessary  to  make  for  the  super- 
abundance of  his  hospitahty  ;  and  it  may  be  easily  be- 
lieved that  he  was  neither  interrupted  by  dissent,  or  any 
expression  of  incredulity. 

He  then  invited  his  guest  to  a  morning  ride,  and  or- 
dered that  Davie  Gellatley  should  meet  them  at  the  deni 
paih  with  Ban  and  Buscar.  "  For  until  the  shooting 
season  commence,  I  would  wiUingly  show  you  some  sport ; 
and  we  may,  God  willing,  meet  with  a  roe.  The  roe, 
Captain  Waverley,  may  be  hunted  at  all  times  ahke  ; 
for  never  being  in  what  is  called  pride  of  grease,  he  is 
also  never  out  of  season,  though  it  be  a  truth  that  his 
venison  is  not  equal  to  that  of  either   the  red  or  fallow 


82  WAVERLEY. 

deer.     But  he  will  serve  to  show  how  my  dogs  run  ;  and 
therefore  they  shall  attend  us  with  David  GelJatley." 

Waverley  expressed  his  surprise  that  his  friend  Davie 
was  capable  of  such  trust  ;  but  the  Baron  gave  him  to 
understand,  that  this  poor  simpleton  was  neither  fatuous, 
nee  naturaliter  idiota,  as  is  expressed  in  the  brieves  of 
furiosity,  but  simply  a  crack-brained  knave,  who  could 
execute  very  well  any  commission  which  jumped  with 
his  own  humour,  and  made  his  folly  a  plea  for  avoiding 
every  other.  "  He  has  made  an  interest  with  us,"  con- 
tinued the  Baron,  "  by  saving  Rose  from  a  great  danger 
with  his  own  proper  peril  ;  and  the  roguish  loon  must 
therefore  eat  of  our  bread  and  diink  of  our  cup,  and  do 
what  he  can,  or  what  he  will ;  which  if  the  suspicions  of 
.  Saunderson  and  the  Baillie  are  well  founded,  may  per- 
chance in  his  case  be  CQmmensurate  terms." 

Miss  Bradwardine  then  gave  Waverley  to  understand, 
that  this  poor  simpleton  was  doatingly  fond  of  music, 
deeply  afiected  by  that  which  was  melancholy,  and  trans- 
ported into  extravagant  gaiety  by  light  and  lively  airs. 
He  had  in  this  respect  a  prodigious  memory,  stored  with 
miscellaneous  snatches  and  fragments  of  all  tunes  and 
songs,  which  he  sometimes  apphed,  with  considerable 
address,  as  the  vehicles  of  remonstrance,  explanation,  or 
satire.  Davie  was  much  attached  to  the  few  who  show- 
ed him  kindness  ;  and  both  aware  of  any  slight  or  ill 
usage  which  be  happened  to  receive,  and  sufficiently  apt, 
where  he  saw  opportunity,  to  revenge  it.  The  common 
people,  who  often  judge  hardly  of  each  other,  as  well 
as  of  their  betters,  although  they  bad  expressed  great 
compassion  for  the  poor  innocent  while  suffered  to  wan- 
der in  rags  about  the  village,  no  sooner  beheld  him  de- 
cently clothed,  provided  for,  and  even  a  sort  of  favourite, 
than  they  called  up  all  the  instances  of  sharpness  and 
ingenuity,  in  action  and  repartee,  which  his  annals  afford- 
ed, and  charitably  bottomed  thereupon  a  hypothesis,  that 
David  Gellatley  was  no  farther  fool  than  was  necessary 
to  avoid  hard  labour.  This  opinion  was  not  better  found- 
ed than  that  of  the  Nesroes,  who,  from   the   acute    and 


AVAYERLEY.  83 

mischievous  pranks  of  the  monkies,  suppose  that  they 
have  the  gift  of  speech,  and  only  suppress  their  powers 
of  elocution  to  escape  being  set  to  work.  David  Gel- 
latley  was  in  good  earnest  the  half-crazed  simpleton 
which  he  appeared,  and  was  incapable  of  any  constant 
and  steady  exertion.  He  had  just  so  much  solidity  as  to 
keep  on  the  windy  side  of  insanity  ;  so  much  wild  wit 
as  saved  him  from  the  imputation  of  idiocy  ;  some  dex- 
terity in  field-sports,  (in  wdiich  we  have  known  as  great 
fools  excel  ;)  great  kindness  and  humanity  in  the  treat- 
ment of  animals  intrusted  to  him,  warm  affections,  a 
prodigious  memory,  and  an  ear  for  music. 

The  stamping  of  horses  was  now  heard  in  the  court, 
and  Davie's  voice  sin2;in2;  to  the  two  lar2;e  deer  £^rev- 
hounds. 

Hie  away,  hie  away, 
Over  bank  and  over  brae, 
Where  the  copse  wood  is  the  greenest, 
Where  the  fountains  glisten  sheenest, 
Where  the  lady-fern  grows  strongest, 
Where  the  morning  dew  lies  longest, 
Where  the  black-cock  sweetest  sips  it, 
Where  the  fairy  latest  trips  it  ; 
Hie  to  haunts  right  seldom  seen, 
Lovely,  lonesome,  cool  and  green, 
Over  bank  and  over  brae. 
Hie  away,  hie  away. 

"  Do  the  verses  he  sin2:s,"  asked  Waverley,  "  belong 
to  old  Scottish  poetry.  Miss  Bradwardine  r^ 

"  I  believe  not,"  she  replied.  "  This  poor  creature 
had  a  brother,  and  Heaven,  as  if  to  compensate  to  the 
family  Davie's  deficiencies,  had  given  him  what  the  ham- 
let thought  uncommon  talents.  An  uncle  contrived  to 
educate  him  for  the  Scottish  kirk,  but  he  could  not  get 
preferment  because  he  came  from  our  ground.  He  re- 
turned from  college  hopeless  and  broken-hearted,  and 
fell  into  a  decline.  My  father  supported  him  till  his 
death,  which  happened  before  he  was  nineteen.  He 
played  beautifully  on  the  flute,  and  was  supposed  to  have 
a  great  turn  for  poetry.     He  was  affectionate  and  com- 


84  WAVERLEY, 

passionate  to  his  brother,  who  followed  him  like  his 
shadow,  and  we  think  that  from  him  Davie  gathered 
many  fragments  of  songs  and  music  unlike  those  of  this 
country.  But  if  we  ask  him  where  he  got  such  a  fragment 
as  he  is  now  singing,  he  either  answers  with  wild  and 
long  fits  of  laughter,  or  else  breaks  into  tears  of  lamen- 
tation ;  but  was  never  heard  to  give  any  explanation,  or 
mention  his  brother's  name  since  his  death." 

"  Surely,"  said  Edward,  who  was  readily  interested 
by  a  tale  bordering  on  the  romantic,  "  surely  more  might 
be  learned  by  more  particular  inquiry." 

"  Perhaps  so,"  answered  Rose  ;  "but  my  father  will 
not  permit  any  one  to  practise  on  his  feelings  on  this 
subject." 

By  this  time  the  Baron,  with  the  help  of  Mr.  Saun- 
derson,  had  indued  a  pair  of  jack-boots  of  large  dimen- 
sion, and  now  invited  our  hero  to  follow  him  as  he  stalked 
clattering  down  the  ample  stair-case  tapping  each  huge 
balustrade  as  he  passed  with  the  butt  of  his  massive 
horse-whip,  and  humming,  with  the  air  of  a  chasseur  of 
Louis  Quatorze, 

Pour  la  chasse  ordonnee  il  faut  preparer  tout, 
Ho  la  ho  !  Vile  !  vite  debout. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

A  more  Rational  Day  than  the  Last. 

The  Baron  of  Bradwardine,  mounted  on  an  active 
and  well-managed  horse,  and  seated  on  a  demi-pique 
saddle,  with  deep  housings  to  agree  with  his  livery,  was 
no  bad  representation  of  the  old  school.  His  light-col- 
oured embroidered  coat,  and  superbly  barred  waistcoat, 
his  brigadier   wig,   surmounted   by   a   small   gold-laced 


WAVERLEY.  85 

cocked  hat,  completed  his  personal  costume  ;  but  he  was 
attended  by  two  well  mounted  servants  on  horseback, 
armed  with  holster-pistols. 

In  this  guise  he  ambled  forth  over  hill  and  valley,  the 
admiration  of  every  farm-yard  which  they  passed  in  their 
progress  ;  till  "  low  down  in  a  grassy  vale,"  they  found 
David  Gellatley  leading  two  very  tall  deer  greyhounds, 
and  presiding  over  half  a  dozen  curs,  and  about  as  many 
bare-legged  and  bare-headed  boys,  who,  to  procure  the 
chosen  distinction  of  attending  on  the  chase,  had  not 
failed  to  tickle  his  ears  with  the  dulcet  appellation  of 
Maister  Gellatley,  though  probably  all  and  each  had 
hooted  him  on  former  occasions  in  the  character  of  daft 
Davie.  But  this  is  no  uncommon  strain  of  flattery  to 
persons  in  office,  nor  altogether  confined  to  the  bare- 
legged villagers  of  Tully-Veolan  ;  it  was  in  fashion  Si^ty 
Years  Since,  is  now,  and  will  be  six  hundred  years 
hence,  if  this  admirable  compound  of  folly  and  knavery, 
called  the  world,  shall  be  then  in  existence. 

These  gillie  ivet-foois,  as  they  were  called,  were  des- 
tined to  beat  the  bushes,  which  they  performed  with  so 
much  success,  that,  after  half  an  hour's  search,  a  roe 
was  started,  coursed,  and  killed  ;  the  Baron  following 
on  his  white  horse,  like  Earl  Percy  of  yore,  and  mag- 
nanimously flaying  and  disembowelling  the  slain  animal, 
(which,  he  observed,  was  called  by  the  French  chasseurs, 
faire  la  curie)  with  his  ov/n  baronial  couteau  de  chasse. 
After  this  ceremony,  he  conducted  his  guest  homeward 
by  a  pleasant  and  circuitous  route,  commanding  an  ex- 
tensive prospect  of  different  villages  and  houses,  to  each 
of  which  Mr.  Bradv/ardine  attached  some  anecdote  of 
history  or  genealogy,  told  in  language  whimsical  from 
prejudice  and  pedantry,  but  often  respectable  for  the 
good  sense  and  honourable  feelings  which  his  narratives 
displayed,  and  almost  always  curious,  if  not  valuable, 
for  the  information  they  contained. 

The  truth  is,  the  ride  seemed  agreeable  to  both  gen- 
tlemen, because  they  found  amusement  in  each   other's 

8       VOL.    I. 


86 


WAVE  RLE  Y. 


conversation,  although  their  characters  and  habits  of 
thinking  were  in  many  respects  totally  opposite.  Ed- 
ward, we  have  informed  the  reader,  was  warm  iii  his 
feelings,  wild  and  romantic  in  his  ideas  and  in  his  taste 
of  reading,  with  a  strong  disposition  towards  poetry. 
Mr.  Bradvvardine  was  the  reverse  of  all  this,  and  piqued 
himself  upon  stalking  through  life  with  the  same  upright, 
starched,  stoical  gravity  which  distinguished  his  evening 
promenade  upon  the  terrace  of  Tully-Veolan,  where  for 
hours  together — the  very  model  of  old  Hardyknute — 

Stately  stepp'd  hf;  east  the  wa', 
And  stately  stepp'd  he  west. 

As  for  literature,  he  read  the  classic  poets  to  be  sure, 
and  the  Epithalamium  of  Georgius  Buchanan,  and  Ar- 
thur Johnstone's  Psalms,  of  a  Sunday  ;  and  the  Deliciae 
Poetarum,  and  Sir  David  Lindsay's  Works,  and  Bar- 
bour's Bruce,  and  Blind  Harry's  Wallace,  and  the  Gen- 
tle Shepherd,  and  the  Cherry  and  the  Slae.  But  though 
i\e  thus  far  sacrificed  his  time  to  the  muses,  he  would,  if 
the  truth  must  be  spoken,  hav^e  been  much  better  pleased 
had  the  pious  or  sapient  apothegms,  as  well  as  the  his- 
torical narratives  which  these  various  works  contained, 
been  presented  to  him  in  the  form  of  simple  prose.  And 
he  sometimes  could  not  refrain  from  expressing  contempt 
of  the  "  vain  and  unprofitable  art  of  poem-making,"  in 
which,  he  said,  "  the  only  one  who  had  excelled  in  his 
time  was  Allan  Ramsay,  the  periwig-maker." 

But  although  Edward  and  he  differed  toto  ccelo,  as  the 
Baron  would  have  said,  upon  this  subject,  yet  they  met 
upon  history  as  on  a  neutral  ground,  in  which  each  claim- 
ed an  interest.  The  Baron,  indeed,  only  cumbered  his 
memory  with  matters  of  fact  :  the  cold,  dry,  hard  out- 
lines which  history  delineates.  Edward,  on  the  contrary, 
loved  to  fill  up  and  round  the  sketch  with  the  colouring 
of  a  warm  and  vivid  imagination,  which  gives  light  and 
life  to  the  actors  and  speakers  in  the  drama  of  past  ages. 
Yet  with  tastes  so  opposite,  they  contributed  greatly  to 
each  other's   amusement.      Mr.  Bradwardine's   minute 


WAVE  RLE  T.  S7 

narratives  and  powerful  memory  supplied  to  Waverley 
fresh  subjects  of  the  kind  upon  which  his  fancy  loved  to 
labour,  and  opened  to  him  a  new  mine  of  incident  and 
of  character.  And  he  repaid  the  pleasure  thus  commu- 
nicated, by  an  earnest  attention,  valuable  to  all  story- 
tellers, more  especially  to  the  Baron,  who  felt  his  habits 
of  self-respect  flattered  by  it ;  and  sometimes  also  by 
reciprocal  communications,  which  interested  lur.  Brad- 
wardine,  as  confirming  or  illustrating  his  own  favourite 
anecdotes.  Besides,  Mr.  Bradwardine  loved  to  talk  of 
the  scenes  of  his  youth,  which  had  been  spent  in  camps 
and  foreign  lands,  and  had  many  interesting  particulars 
to  tell  of  the  generals  under  whom  he  had  served,  and 
the  actions  he  had  w^itnessed. 

Both  parties  returned  to  Tully-Veolan  in  great  good 
humour  with  each  other  ;  Waverley,  desirous  of  studying 
more  attentively  what  he  considered  as  a  singular  and 
interesting  character,  gifted  with  a  memory  containing  a 
curious  register  of  ancient  and  modern  anecdotes  ;  and 
Bradwardine  disposed  to  regard  Edward  as  puer  (or 
rather  juvenis)  bona  spei  et  magna,  indolis,  a  youth  de- 
void of  that  petulant  volatihty,  which  is  impatient  of,  or 
vilipends,  the  conversation  and  advice  of  his  seniors,  from 
which  he  predicted  great  things  of  his  future  success  and 
deportment  in  hfe.  There  was  no  other  guest  except 
Mr.  Kubrick,  whose  information  and  discourse,  as  a 
clergyman  and  a  scholar,  harmonized  very  well  with  that 
of  the  Baron  and  his  guest. 

Shortly  after  dinner,  the  Baron,  as  if  to  show  that  his 
temperance  was  not  entirely  theoretical,  proposed  a  visit 
to  Rose's  apartment,  or,  as  he  termed  it,  her  Troisieme 
Etage.  Waverley  w^as  accordingly  conducted  through 
one  or  two  of  those  long  awkward  passages  with  which 
ancient  architects  studied  to  puzzle  the  inhabitants  of  the 
houses  which  they  planned,  at  the  end  of  which  Mr. 
Bradwardine  began  to  ascend,  by  two  steps  at  once,  a 
very  steep,  narrow,  and  winding  stair,  leaving  Mr.  Ku- 
brick and  Waverley  to  follow  at  more  leisure,  while  he 
should  announce  their  approach  to  his  daughter. 


88  W  AVE  RLE  T. 

After  having  climbed  this  perpendicular  corkscrew 
until  their  brains  were  almost  giddy,  they  arrived  in  a 
little  matted  lobby,  which  served  as  an  anti-room  to  Rose's 
sanctum  sanctorum,  and  through  which  they  entered  her 
parlour.  It  was  a  small,  but  pleasant  apartment,  opening 
to  the  south,  and  hung  with  tapestry  ;  adorned  besides 
with  two  pictures,  one  of  her  mother,  in  the  dress  of  a 
shepherdess,  with  a  bell-hoop  ;  the  other  of  the  Baron, 
in  his  tenth  year,  in  a  blue  coat,  embroidered  waistcoat, 
laced  hat,  and  bag-wig,  with  a  bow  in  his  hand.  Edward 
could  not  help  smiling  at  the  costume,  and  at  the  odd 
resemblance  between  the  round,  smooth,  red-cheeked, 
staring  visage  in  the  portrait,  and  the  gaunt,  bearded, 
hollow-eyed,  swarthy  features,  which  travelling,  fatigues 
of  war,  and  advanced  age,  had  bestowed  on  the  original. 
The  Baron  joined  in  the  laugh.  "  Truly,"  he  said, 
"  that  picture  was  a  woman's  fantasy  of  my  good  moth- 
er's, (a  daughter  of  the  Laird  of  Tulliellum,  Captain 
Waverley  ;  I  indicated  the  house  to  you  when  we  were 
on  the  top  of  the  Shinny-heuch  ;  it  was  burnt  by  the 
Dutch  auxiliaries  brought  in  by  the  government  in  1715  ;) 
I  never  sate  for  my  pourtraicture  but  once  since  that  w^as 
painted,  and  it  was  at  the  special  and  reiterated  request 
of  the  Marechal  Duke  of  Berwick." 

The  good  old  gentleman  did  not  mention,  what  Mr. 
Rubrick  afterwards  told  Edward,  that  the  Duke  had 
done  him  this  honour  on  account  of  his  being  the  first  to 
mount  the  breach  of  a  fort  in  Savoy  during  the  memora- 
ble campaign  of  1709,  and  having  there  defended  him- 
self with  his  half-pike  for  nearly  ten  minutes  before  any 
support  reached  him.  To  do  the  Baron  justice,  although 
sufficiently  prone  to  exaggerate  his  family  dignity  and 
consequence,  he  was  too  much  a  man  of  real  courage 
ever  to  dwell  upon  such  personal  acts  of  merit  as  he  had 
himself  manifested. 

Miss  Rose  now  appeared  from  the  interior  room  of 
her  apartment,  to  welcome  her  father  and  his  friends. 
The  little  labours  in  which  she  had  been  employed  ob- 
viously showed  a  natural  taste,  which  required  only  cul- 


WAVERLEY.  89 

tivation.  Her  father  Had  taught  her  French  and  Itahan, 
and  a  few  of  the  ordinary  authors  in  those  languages 
ornainented  her  shelves.  He  had  endeavoured  also  to 
be  her  preceptor  in  music  :  but  as  he  began  with  the 
more  abstruse  doctrines  of  the  science,  and  was  not  per- 
haps master  of  them  himself,  she  had  made  no  proficiency 
farther  than  to  be  able  to  accompany  her  voice  with  the 
harpsichord  ;  but  even  this  was  not  very  common  in 
Scotland  at  that  period.  To  make  amends,  she  sung 
with  great  taste  and  feeling,  and  whh  a  respect  to  the 
sense  of  what  she  uttered  that  might  be  proposed  in  ex- 
ample to  ladies  of  much  superior  musical  talent.  Her 
natural  good  sense  taught  her,  that  if,  as  we  are  assured 
by  high  authority,  music  be  "  married  to  immortal  verse," 
they  are  very  often  divorced  by  the  performer  in  a  most 
shameful  manner.  It  was  perhaps  owing  to  this  sensi- 
bility to  poetry,  and  power  of  conibining  its  expression 
with  those  of  the  musical  notes,  that  her  singing  gave 
more  pleasure  to  all  the  unlearned  in  music,  and  even  to 
many  of  the  learned,  than  could  have  been  communicated 
by  a  much  finer  voice  and  more  brilliant  execution,  u.n- 
guided   by  the  same  delicacy  of  feeling. 

A  bartizan,  or  projecting  gallery,  before  the  windov/s 
of  her  parlour,  served  to  illustrate  another  of  Rose':- 
pursuits,  for  it  was  crowded  with  flowers  of  difiererit 
kinds,  which  she  had  taken  under  her  special  protection. 
A  projecting  turret  gave  access  to  this  Gotriic  balcony, 
which  commanded  a  most  beautiful  prospect.  The  for- 
mal garden,  with  its  high  bounding  wails,  lay  below,  con- 
tracted, as  it  seemed,  to  a  mere  parterre  ;  while  tlit 
view  extended  beyond  them  down  a  wooded  glen,  wher^. 
the  small  river  was  sometimes  visible,  sometimes  hidden 
in  copse.  The  eye  might  be  delayed  by  a  desire  to  re?t 
on  the  rocks,  which  here  and  there  rose  from  the  deJ^ 
with  massive  or  spiry  fronts,  or  it  might  dwell  on  the  no- 
ble, though  ruined  tower,  which  was  here  beheld  in  all 
its  dignity,  frowning  from  a  promontory  over  the  river. 
To  the  left  were  seen  two  or  three  cottages,  a  part  of  the 

8*       VOL.    I, 


90  WAVE  RLE  Y. 

village  ;  the  brow  of  the  hill  concealed  the  others.  The 
glen,  or  dell,  was  terminated  by  a  sheet  of  water,  called 
Loch  Veolan,  into  which  the  brook  discharged  itself, 
and  which  now  ghstened  in  the  western  sun.  The  dis- 
tant country  seemed  open  and  varied  in  surface,  though 
not  wooded  ;  and  there  was  nothing  to  interrupt  the 
view  until  the  scene  was  bounded  by  a  ridge  of  distant 
and  blue  hills,  which  formed  the  southern  boundary  of 
the  strath  or  valley.  To  this  pleasant  station  Miss  Brad- 
wardine  had  ordered  coffee. 

The  view  of  the  old  tower,  or  fortalice,  introduced 
some  family  anecdotes  and  tales  of  Scottish  chivalry, 
which  the  Baron  told  with  great  enthusiasm.  The  pro- 
jecting peak  of  an  impending  crag  which  rose  near  it, 
had  acquired  the  name  of  St.  Swithin's  Chair.  It  was 
the  scene  of  a  peculiar  superstition,  of  which  Mr.  Ku- 
brick mentioned  some  curious  particulars,  which  remind- 
ed Waverley  of  a  rhyme  quoted  by  Edgar  in  King  Lear  ; 
and  Rose  was  called  upon  to  sing  a  little  legend,  in  which 
ihey  had  been  interwoven  by  some  village  poet, 

Who,  noteless  os  the  race  from  which  he  sprung-, 
Saved  others'  names,  but  left  his  own  unsung. 

The  sweetness  of  her  voice,  and  the  simple  beauty  of 
her  music,  gave  all  the  advantage  which  the  minstrel 
could  have  desired,  and  which  his  poetry  so  much  wanted, 
I  almost  doubt  if  it  can  be  read  with  patience,  destitute 
of  those  advantages  ;  although  I  conjecture  the  ibllowin'g 
copy  to  have  been  somewhat  corrected  by  Waverley,  to 
suit  the  taste  of  those  who  might  not  relish  pure  antiquity. 

On  Kailow-3Iass  E^e,  ero  ye  boune  ye  to  rest, 
Ever  beware  that  your  couch  be  bless'd  ; 
Sign  it  with  cross,  and  sain  it  with  bead 
Sing  the  Ave,  and  say  the  Creed. 

For  on  HalKiw-Mnss  Eve  the  Night-Ting  wij]  ride. 
And  all  her  nine-foid  svveeping  on  t^7  her  siiie, 


WAVERLEY.  91 

Whether  the  wind  sing  lowl}'  or  loud, 

Sailing  through  moonshine  or  swath'd  in  the  cloud. 

The  Lady  she  sate  in  St.  Swithin's  Chair, 
The  dew  of  the  night  has  damp'd  her  hair  : 
Her  cheek  was  pale — but  resolved  and  high 
Was  the  word  of  her  lip  and  the  glance  of  her  eye. 

She  mutter'd  the  spell  of  St.  Swithin  bold, 
When  his  naked  foot  traced  the  midnight  wold, 
When  he  stopp'd  the  Hag  as  she  rode  the  night, 
And  bade  her  descend,  and  her  promise  plight. 

He  that  dare  sit  on  St.  Swithin's  Chair, 
When  the  Night-Hag  wings  the  troubled  air, 
Questions  three,  when  he  speaks  the  spell. 
He  may  ask,  and  she  must  tell. 

The  Baron  has  been  with  King  Robert  his  liege, 
These  three  long  years  in  battle  and  siege  ; 
News  there  are  none  of  his  weal  or  woe, 
And  fain  tlie  Lady  his  fate  would  know. 

She  shudders  and  stops  as  the  charm  she  speaks  ; — 
Is  it  the  moody  owl  that  shrieks  ? 
Or  is  it  that  sound,  betwixt  laughter  and  scream, 
The  voice  of  the  Demon  who  haunts  the  stream  ? 

The  moan  of  the  wind  sunk  silent  and  low, 
And  the  roaring  torrent  has  ceased  to  flow  ; 
The  calm  was  more  dreadful  than  raging  stonn, 
When  the  cold  grey  mist  brought  the  ghastly  form  ! 


'•  I  am  sorry  to  disappoint  the  company,  especially 
Captain  Waverley,  who  listens  with  such  laudable  grav- 
ity ;  it  is  but  a  fragment,  although  I  think  there  are  other 
verses,  describing  the  return  of  the  Baron  from  the  wars, 
And  how  the  lady  was  found  *  clay-cold  upon  the  groun- 
<.i)I  ledge.'  " 

"  It  is  one  of  those  figments,"  observed  Mr.  Bradwar- 
dine,  "  with  which  the  early  history  of  distinguished 
families  was  deformed  in  the  times  of  superstition  ;  as 
that  of  Rome,  and  other  ancient  nations,  had  their  prod- 


92  WAVERLET. 

igies,  sir,  the  which  you  may  read  in  ancient  histories, 
or  in  the  little  work  compiled  by  Julius  Obseqwens,  and 
inscribed  by  the  learned  SchefFer,  the  editor,  to  his  pa- 
tron, Benedictus  Skytte,  Baron  of  DudershofF." 

"  My  father  has  a  strange  defiance  of  the  marvellous, 
Captain  Waverley,"  observed  Rose,  *'  and  once  stood 
firm  when  a  whole  synod  of  presbyterian  divines  were 
put  to  the  route,  by  a  sudden  apparition  of  the  foul  fiend." 

Waverley  looked  as  if  desirous  to  hear  more. 

*'  Must  1  tell  my  story  as  well  as  sing  my  song  ? — 
Well — Once  upon  a  time  there  lived  an  old  woman,  call- 
ed Janet  Gellatley,  who  was  suspected  to  be  a  witch,  on 
the  infallible  grounds  that  she  was  very  old,  very  ugly, 
very  poor,  and  had  two  sons,  one  of  whom  was  a  j)oet, 
and  the  other  a  fool,  which  visitation,  all  the  neighbour- 
hood agreed,  had  come  upon  her  for  the  sin  of  witch- 
craft. And  she  was  imprisoned  for  a  week  in  the  steeple 
of  the  parish  church,  and  sparely  supplied  with  food,  and 
not  permitted  to  sleep,  until  she  herself  became  as  much 
persuaded  of  her  being  a  witch  as  her  accusers  ;  and  in 
this  lucid  and  happy  state  of  mind  was  brough*  forth  to 
make  a  clean  breast,  that  is,  to  make  open  confession  of 
her  sorceries  before  all  the  whig  gentry  and  ministers  iu 
the  vicinity,  who  were  no  conjurors  themselves.  My 
father  went  to  see  fair  play  between  the  witch  and  the 
clergy  ;  for  the  witch  had  been  born  on  his  estate.  And 
while  the  witch  was  confessing  that  the  Enemy  appeared, 
and  made  his  addresses  to  her  as  a  handsome  black  man, 
— which,  if  you  could  have  seen  poor  old  blear-eyed 
Janet,  reflected  httle  honour  on  Apollyon's  taste, — and 
while  the  auditors  listened  with  astonished  ears,  and  the 
clerk  recorded  with  a  trembling  hand,  she,  ah  of  a  sud- 
den, changed  the  low  mumblins;  tone  with  which  she 
spoke,  into  a  shrill  yell,  and  exclaimed,  '  Look  to  your- 
selves !  look  to  yourselves  !  I  see  the  Evil  One  silting 
in  the  midst  of  ye.'  The  surprise  was  general,  and 
terror  and  flight  its  immediate  consequences.  Happ) 
were  those  who  were  next  the  door  ;  and  many  were 
the  disasters  that  befellhats,  bands,  cuffs,  and  wigs,  before 


WAVERLEY.  93 

they  could  get  out  of  the  church,  where  they  left  the  ob- 
stinate prelatist  to  settle  matters  with  the  witch  and  her 
admirer,  at  his  own  peril  or  pleasure.". 

"  Risii  solvuntur  tabulce,^^  said  the  Baron  ;  "  when 
they  recovered  their  panic  trepidation,  they  were  too 
much  ashamed  to  bring  any  wakening  of  the  process 
against  Janet  Gellatley." 

This  anecdote  led  into  a  long  discussion  of 

All  those  idle  thoughts  and  phantasies, 
Devices,  dreams,  opinions  unsound, 
Shows,  visions,  sootlisays,  and  prophecies. 
And  all  that  feigned  is,  as  leasings,  tales,  and  lies. 

With  such  conversation,  and  the  romantic  legends 
which  it  introduced,  closed  our  hero's  second  evening  i-n 
the  house  of  TuUy-Veolan. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A  Discovery — Waverley  becomes  domesticated  at  Tully- 
Veolan. 

The  next  day  Edward  arose  betimes,  and  in  a  morn- 
ing walk  around  the  house  and  its  vicinity,  came  suddenly 
upon  a  small  court  in  front  of  the  dog-kennel,  where  his 
friend  Davie  was  employed  about  his  four-footed  charge. 
One  quick  glance  of  his  eye  recognised  Waverley,  when, 
instantly  turning  his  back,  as  if  he  had  not  observed  him, 
he  began  to  sing  part  of  an  old  ballad  : 

Young  men  will  love  thee  more  fair  and  more  fast  ; 

Heard  ye  so  mernj  the  little  bird  sing  ? 
Old  men's  love  the  longest  will  last, 

And  the  th-ostk-cock's  head  is  under  his  wing. 


94  WAVERLEY. 

The  young  man's  wrath  is  like  liglit  straw  on  fire  . 

Heard  ye  so  merry  the  little  bird  sing  ? 
But  like  red-hot  steel  is  the  old  man's  ire, 

Ami  the  throstle-cock's  head  is  under  his  iving. 

The  young  man  will  brawl  at  the  evening  board  ; 

Heard  ye  so  merry  the  little  bird  sing  ? 
But  the  old  man  will  draw  at  the  dawning  the  sword, 

And  the  throstle-cock's  head  is  wider  his  wing. 

Waverley  could  not  avoid  observing  that  Davie  laid 
something  like  a  satirical  emphasis  on  these  lines.  He 
therefore  approached,  and  endeavoured,  by  sundry  que- 
ries, to  elicit  from  him  what  the  inuendo  might  mean  ; 
but  Davie  had  no  mind  to  explain,  and  had  wit  enough 
to  make  his  folly  cloak  his  knavery.  Edward  could  col- 
lect nothing  from  him,  excepting  that  the  Laird  of  Bal- 
mawhapple  had  gone  home  yesterday  morning,  "  wd' 
his  boots  fu'  o'  bluid."  In  the  garden,  however,  he  met 
the  old  butler,  who  no  longer  attempted  to  conceal,  that, 
having  been  bred  in  the  nursery  hne  with  Sumack  and 
Co.  of  Newcastle,  he  sometimes  wrought  a  turn  in  the 
flower-borders  to  oblige  the  Lafrd  and  Miss  Rose.  By 
a  series  of  queries,  Edward  at  length  discovered,  wtth  a 
painful  feeling  of  surprise  and  shame,  that  Balmawhap- 
ple's  submission  and  apology  had  been  the  consequence 
of  a  rencontre  with  the  Baron  before  he  had  quitted  his 
pillow,  in  which  the  younger  combatant  had  been  dis- 
armed and  wounded  in  tbe  sword  arm. 

Greatly  mortified  at  this  information,  Edward  sought 
out  his  friendly  host,  and  anxiously  expostulated  with 
him  upon  the  injustice  he  had  done  him  in  antici- 
pating his  meeting  with  Mr.  Falconer,  a  circumstance, 
which,  considering  his  youth  and  the  profession  of  arms 
which  he  had  just  adopted,  was  capable  of  being  repre- 
sented much  to  his  prejudice.  The  Baron  justified 
himself  at  greater  length  than  I  choose  to  repeat.  He 
urged,  that  the  quarrel  was  common  to  them,  and  that 
Balmawhapple  could  not,  by  the  code  of  honour,  evite 
giving  satisfaction  to  both,  which  he  had  done  in  his 
case  by  an  honourable  meeting,  and   in  that  of  Edward 


WAVERLEY.  95 

by  such  a  palinode  as  rendered  the  use  of  the  sword 
unnecessary,  and  which,  being  made  and  accepted,  must 
necessarily  sopite  the  whole  affair.  With  this  excuse 
or  explanation,  VVaverley  was  silenced,  if  not  satisfied, 
but  he  could  not  help  testifying  some  displeasure  against 
the  Blessed  Bear,  which  had  given  rise  to  the  quarrel, 
nor  refrain  from  hinting,  that  the  sanctified  epithet  was 
hardly  appropriate.  The  Baron  observed,  he  could 
not  deny  that  "  the  Bear,  though  allowed  by  heralds  as 
a  most  honourable  'ordinary,  had,  nevertheless,  some- 
what fierce,  churlish,  and  morose  in  his  disposition,  (as 
might  be  read  in  Archibald  Simpson  pastor  of  Dalkeith's 
Hieroglyphica  AnimaJium,)  and  had  thus  been  the  type 
of  many  quarrels  and  dissensions  which  had  occurred 
in  the  house  of  Bradwardine  ;  of  which,"  he  continu- 
ed, "I  might  commemorate  mine  own  unfortunate  dis- 
sension with  rny  third  cousin  by  the  mother's  side.  Sir 
Hew  Halbert,  who  was  so  unthhiking  as  to  deride  my 
family  name,  as  if  it  had  been  quasi  Bear-Warden  ;  a 
most  uncivil  jest,  since  it  not  only  insinuated  that  the 
founder  of  our  house  occupied  such  a  mean  situation  a? 
to  be  a  custodier  of  wild  beasts,  a  charge,  which,  ye 
must  have  observed,  is  only  intrusted  to  the  very  basest 
plebeians  ;  but,  moreover,  seemed  to  infer  that  our  coat- 
armour  had  not  been  achieved  by  honourable  actions  in 
war,  but  bestowed  hy  ys^iy  o^ par anomasia,  or  pun,  upon 
our  family  appellation, — a  sort  of  bearing  which  the 
French  call  armoires  parlantes ;  the  Latins,  arma  can- 
tantia  ;  and  your  English  authorities,  canting  heraldr}" ; 
being  indeed  a  species  of  emblazoning  more  befitting 
canters,  gaberlunzies,  and  such  like  mendicants,  w^hose 
gibberish  is  formed  upon  playing  on  the  word,  than  the 
noble,  honourable,  and  useful  science  of  heraldry,  which 
assigns  armorial  bearings  as  the  reward  of  noble  and 
generous  actions,  and  not  to  tickle  the  ear  with  vain 
quodlibets,  such  as  are  found  in  jest-books."  Of  his 
quarrel  with  Sir  Hew  he  said  nothing  more,  than  that  it 
was  settled  in  a  fitting  manner. 


yO  AVAVERXEY. 

Having  been  so  minute  with  respect  to  the  diversions 
of  Tully-Veolan,  on  the  first  days  of  Edward's  arrival, 
for  the  purpose  of  introducing  its  inmates  to  the  read- 
er's acquaintance,  it  becomes  less  necessary  to  trace  the 
progress  of  his  intercourse  with  the  same  accuracy.  It 
is  probable  that  a  young  man,  accustomed  to  more 
cheerful  society,  would  have  tired  of  the  conversation  of 
so  violent  an  asserter  of  the  "boast  of  heraldry"  as  the 
Baron ;  but  Edward  found  an  agreeable  variety  in  that 
of  Miss  Bradwardine,  who  Hstened  with  eagerness  to 
his  remarks  upon  hterature,  and  showed  great  justness 
of  taste  in  her  answers.  The  sweetness  of  her  disposi- 
tion had  made  her  submit  with  complacency,  and  even 
pleasure,  to  the  course  of  reading  prescribed  by  her 
father,  although  it  not  only  comprehended  several  heavy 
folios  of  history,  but  certain  gigantic  tomes  in  high- 
church  polemics.  In  heraldry  he  was  fortunately  con- 
tented to  give  her  only  such  a  slight  tincture  as  might 
be  acquired  by  perusal  of  the  two  folio  volumes  of 
Nisbet.  Rose  was  indeed  the  very  apple  of  her  fath- 
er's eye.  Her  constant  hvehness,  her  attention  to  all 
those  httle  observances  most  gratifying  to  those  who 
would  never  think  of  exacting  them,  her  beauty,  in 
which  he  recalled  the  features  of  his  beloved  wife,  her 
unfeigned  piety,  and  the  noble  generosity  of  her  dispo- 
sition, would  have  justified  the  affection  of  the  most 
doating  father. 

His  anxiety  on  her  behalf  did  not,  however,  seem  to 
extend  itself  in  that  quarter  where,  according  to  the 
general  opinion,  it  is  most  efficiently  displayed,  in  la- 
bouring, namely,  to  estabhsh  her  in  life,  either  by  a  large 
dowry  or  a  wealthy  marriage.  By  an  old  settlement, 
almost  all  the  landed  estates  of  the  Baron  went,  after 
his  death,  to  a  distant  relation  ;  and  it  was  supposed  that 
Miss  Bradwardine  would  remain  but  slenderly  provided 
for,  as  the  good  gentleman's  cash-matters  had  been 
too  long  under  the  exclusive  charge  of  Baillie  Mac- 
wheeble,  to  admit  of  any  great  expectations  from  his 
personal  succession.      It  is  true,  the  said  Baillie    loved 


AVAVERLEY. 


97 


his  patron  and  his  patron's  daughter  next  (though  at  an 
incomparable  distance)  to  himseL^.  He  thought  it  was 
possible  to  set  aside  the  settlement  on  the  male  line, 
and  had  actually  procured  an  opinion  to  that  effect  (and, 
as  he  boasted,  without  a  fee)  from  an  eminent  Scottish  • 
counsel,  under  whose  notice  he  contrived  to  bring  the 
point  while  consulting  him  regularly  on  some  other  bus- 
iness. But  the  Baron  would  not  listen  to  such  a  propo- 
sal for  an  instant.  On  the  contrary,  he  used  to  have  a 
perverse  pleasure  in  boasting  that  the  barony  of  Brad- 
wardine  was  a  male  fief,  the  first  charter  having  been 
given  at  that  early  period  when  women  were  not  deem- 
ed capable  to  hold  a  feudal  grant ;  because,  according 
to  Les  coustusmes  de  JYorinandie  c'est  Vhomme  ki  se  bast 
et  ki  conseille  ;  or,  as  is  yet  more  ungallantly  expressed 
by  other  authorities,  all  of  whose  barbarous  names  he 
delighted  to  quote  at  full  length,  because  a  woman  could 
not  serve  the  superior,  or  feudal  lord,  in  war,  on  ac- 
count of  the  decorum  of  her  sex,  nor  assist  him  with 
advice,  because  of  her  limited  intellect,  nor  keep  his 
counsel,  owing  to  the  infirmity  of  her  disposition.  He 
would  triumphantly  ask,  how  it  would  become  a  female, 
and  that  female  a  Bradwardine,  to  be  seen  employed  in 
servitio  eocuendi,  seu  detrahendi,  caligas  regis  post  hat- 
taliam  ?  that  is,  in  pulling  off  the  king's  boots  after  an 
engagement,  which  was  the  feudal  service  by  which  he 
held  the  barony  of  Bradwardine.  "No,"  he  said,  "be- 
yond hesitation,  procul  dubio,  many  females,  as  worthy 
as  Rose,  bad  been  excluded,  in  order  to  make  way  for 
my  own  succession,  and  Heaven  forbid  that  1  should  do 
aught  that  might  contravene  the  destination  of  my  fore- 
fathers, or  impinge  upon  the  right  of  my  kinsman,  Mal- 
colm Bradwardine  of  Inchgrabbit,  an  honourable,  though 
decayed  branch  of  my  own  family." 

The  Baillie,  as  prime  minister,  having  received  this 
decisive  com  nunication  from  his  sovereign,  durst  not 
press  his  own  opinion  any  farther,  but  contented  himself 
with  deploring,  on  all  suitable  occasions,  to  Saunderson, 

9       VOL.     I. 


vs 


WAVERLET. 


the  minister  of  the  interior,  the  laird's  self-willedness, 
and  with  laving  plans  for  uniting  Rose  with  the  young 
Laird  of  Balmawhapple,  .who  had  a  fine  estate,  only 
moderately  burthened,  and  was  a  faultless  young  gentle- 
man, being  as  sober  as  a  saint — if  you  kept  brandy  from 
Iiim,  and  him  from  brandy — and  who,  in  brief,  had  no 
miperfection  but  that  of  keeping  light  company  at  a 
time  ;  such  as  Jinker,  the  horse-couper,  and  Gibby  Gae- 
throwi't,  the  piper  o'  Cupar ;  "  o'  whilk  folhes,  Mr. 
Saunderson,  he'll  mend,  he'll  mend," — pronounced  the 
'^^'aillie. 

"  Like  sour  ale  in  simmer,"  added  Davie  Gellatley, 
who  happened  to  be  nearer  the  conclave,  than  they  were 
aware  of. 

Miss  Bradwardine,  such  as  we  have  described  her, 
With  all  the  simphcity  and  curiosity  of  a  recluse,  at- 
tached herself  to  the  opportunities  of  increasing  her 
.store  of  literature  which  Edward's  visit  afforded  her. 
He  sent  for  some  of  his  books  from  his  quarters,  and 
they  opened  to  her  sources  of  delight  of  which  she  had 
hitherto  had  no  idea.  The  best  English  poets,  of 
every  description,  and  other  works  on  belles  lettres, 
made  a  part  of  this  precious  cargo.  Her  music,  even 
her  flowers,  were  neglected,  and  Saunders  not  only 
mourned  over,  but  began  to  mutiny  against  the  labour 
for  which  he  now  scarce  received  thanks.  These  new 
pleasures  became  gradually  enhanced  by  sharing  thern 
with  one  of  a  kindred  taste.  Edward's  readiness  to 
comment,  to  recite,  to  explain  difficult  passages,  ren- 
dered his  assistance  invaluable  ;  and  the  wild  romance 
of  his  spirit  delighted  a  character  too  young  and  inex- 
perienced to  observe  its  deficiencies.  Upon  subjects 
which  interested  him,  and  when  quite  at  ease,  he  pos- 
sessed that  ik>w  of  natural,  and  somewhat  florid  elo- 
()ucnce,  which  has  been  supposed  as  powerful  as  figure, 
fasliion,  fame,  or  fortune,  in  winning  the  female  heart. 
There  was,  therefore,  an  increasing  danger  in  this  con- 
stant intercourse,  to  ])oor  Rose's  peace  of  mind,  vvliich 
v,'as  the  more   imminent,  as   her   father   was  greatly  too 


AVAVEBLEY.  99 

much  abstracted  in  his  studies,  and  wrapped  up  in  his 
own  dignity,  to  dream  of  his  daughter's  incurring  it. 
The  daughters  of  the  house  of  Bradwardine  were,  in 
liis  opinion,  like  those  of  the  house  of  Bourbon  or  Aus- 
tria, placed  high  above  the  clouds  of  passion  which 
might  obfuscate  the  intellects  of  meaner  females  ;  they 
moved  in  another  sphere,  were  governed  by  other  feel- 
ings, and  amenable  to  other  rules,  than  those  of  idle  and 
lantastic  affection.  In  short,  he  .shut  his  eyes  so  reso- 
lutely to  the  natural  consequences  of  Edward's  intima- 
cy with  INIiss  Bradwardine,  that  the  whole  neighboui- 
liood  concluded  that  he  had  opened  them  to  the  advan- 
tages of  a  match  between  his  daughter  and  the  wealthy 
young  Englishman,  and  pronounced  him  much  less  a 
fool  than  he  had  generally  shown  himself  in  cases  where 
his  own  interest  ^vas  concerned. 

If  the  Baron,  however,  had  really  meditated  such  an 
aUiance,  the  indifference  of  Waverley  would  have  been 
an  insuperable  bar  to  his  project.  Our  hero,  since 
mixing  more  freely  with  the  world,  had  learned  to  think 
with  great  shame  and  confusion  upon  his  mental  legend 
of  Saint  Cecilia,  and  the  vexation  of  these  reflections 
was  likely,  for  some  time  at  least,  to  counterbalance  the 
natural  susceptibility  of  his  disposition.  Besides,  Rose 
Bradwardine,  beautiful  and  amiable  as  we  have  describ- 
ed her,  had  not  precisely  the  sort  of  beauty  or  merit 
which  captivates  a  romantic  imagination  in  early  youth. 
She  w^as  too  frank,  too  confiding,  too  kind ;  a-miable 
qualities,  undoubtedly,  but  destructive  of  the  marvel- 
lous, with  which  a  youth  of  imagination  delights  to  dress 
the  empress  of  his  affections.  Was  it  possible  to  bow\ 
to  tremble,  and  to  adore,  before  the  timid,  yet  playful 
little  girl,  who  now  asked  Edward  to  mend  her  pen, 
now  to  construe  a  stanza  in  Tasso,  and  now  how  to 
speir  a  very — very  long  word  in  her  version  of  it  ?  All 
these  incidents  have  their  fascination  on  the  mind  at  a 
certain  period  of  life,  but  not  when  a  youth  is  entering 
it,  and  rather  looking  out  for  some  object  whose  affec- 
tion  may  dignify  him   in  his  own  eyes,  than   stooping  to 


100 


WAVERLliY. 


cue  \\ho  looks  up  to  him  for  such  distinction. — HencCj 
though  there  can  be  no  rule  in  so  capricious  a  passion, 
Ccirly  love  is  frequently  ambitious  in  choosing  its  object ; 
or,  which  comes  to  the  same,  selects  her  (as  in  the  case 
of  Saint  Ceciha  aforesaid)"  from  a  situation  that  gives 
fair  scope  for  le  beau  ideal,  which  the  reality  of  intimate 
and  familiar  life  rather  tends  to  limit  and  impair.  I 
kne\T  a  very  accomplished  and  sensible  young  man  cured 
of  a  violent  passion  for  a  pretty  woman,  whose  talents 
were  not  equal  to  her  face  and  figure,  by  being  permit- 
ted to  bear  her  company  for  a  whole  afternoon.  Thus, 
it  is  certain,  that  had  Edward  enjoyed  such  an  opportu- 
nity of  conversing  with  Miss  Stubbs,  Aunt  Rachael's 
precaution  would  liave  been  unnecessary,  for  he  v.ould 
us  soon  have  fallen  in  love  with  the  dairy-maid.  And 
although  Miss  Bradwardine  v/as  a  very  different  charac- 
ter, it  seems  probable  that  the  very  intimacy  of  their 
intercourse  prevented  his  feeling  for  her  other  sentiments 
than  those  of  a  brother  for  an  amiable  and  accomplish- 
ed sister  ;  while  the  sentiments  of  poor  Rose  were  grad- 
ually, and  without  her  being  conscious,  assuming  a  shade 
of  warmer  affection. 

I  ought  to  have  mentioned  that  Edward  had  applied 
for,  and  received  permission,  extending  his  leave  of  ab- 
sence. But  the  letter  of  his  commanding-ofScer  con- 
tained a  friendly  recommendation  to  him,  not  to  spend 
his  time  exclusively  with  persons,  who,  estimable  as  they 
might  .be  in  a  general  sense,  could  not  be  supposed  well 
affected  to  a  government  which  they  declined  to  ac- 
knowledge  by  taking  the  oath  of  allegiance.  The  let- 
ter further  insinuated,  though  with  great  delicacy,  that 
although  some  family  connexions  might  be  supposed  to 
render  it  necessary,  ibr  Captain  Waverley  to  communi- 
cate with  gentlemen  w^ho  were  in  this  unpleasant  state  • 
of  suspicion,  yet  his  father's  situation  and  wishes  ought 
to  prevent  his  prolonging  those  attentions  into  ei^clusive 
intimacy.  And  it  was  intimated,  that  while  his  politi- 
cal principles  were  endangered  by  communicating  with 
laymen  of  this  description,  he  might    also  receive  erro- 


WAVE  RLE  Y. 


lOi 


neous  impressions  in  religion  from  the  prelatic  clergy, 
who  so  perversely  laboured  to  set  up  the  royal  prerog- 
ative in  things  sacred. 

This  last  insinuation  probably  induced  Waverley  to 
set  both  down  to  the  prejudices  of  his  commanding- 
officer.  He  wa's  sensible  that  Mr.  Bradwardine  had 
acted  with  the  most  scrupulous  delicacy,  in  never  entering 
upon  any  discussion  that  had  the  most  remote  tendency 
to  bias  his  mind  in  political  opinions,  although  he  was 
himself  not  only  a  decided  partizan  of  the  exiled  family, 
but  had  been  trusted  at  different  times  with  important 
commissions  for  their  service.  Sensible,  therefore, 
that  there  was  no  risque  of  his  being  perverted  from  his 
Eilegiance,  Edward  felt  as  if  he  should  do  his  uncle's  old 
friend  injustice  in  removing  from  a  house  where  he  gave 
and  received  pleasure  and  amusement,  merely  to  gratify 
a  prejudiced  and  ill-judged  suspicion.  He  therefoj'e 
wrote  a  very  general  answer,  assuring  his  commandine- 
officer  that  his  loyalty  was  not  in  the  most  distant  dan- 
ger of  contamination,  and  continued  an  honoured  guest 
and  inmate  of  the  house  of  Tullv-Veolan. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

A  Creagh  and  its  Consequences. 

When  Edward  had  been  a  guest  at  Tully-Veojan 
nearly  six  weeks,  he  descyed  one  morning,  as  he  took 
his  usual  walk  before  the  breakfast  hour,  signs  of  un- 
common perturbation  in  the  family.  Four  bare-legged 
dairy-maids,  with  each  an  empty  milk-pL'l  in  her  hand, 
ran  about  with  frantic  gestures,  and  uttering  loud  ex- 
clamations of  surprise,  grief  and  resentment.  From 
their  appearance,  a  pagan  might  have  conceived  them  a 

9*         VCL.  I. 


102  WAVERIEY. 

detachment  of  the  celebrated  Behdes,  just  come  from 
their  baleing  penance.  As  nothing  was  to  be  got  from 
this  distracted  chorus,  excepting  "  Lord  guide  us  !"  and 
"  Eh  sirs  !"  ejaculations  which  threw  no  light  upon  the 
cause  of  their  dismay,  Waverley  repaired  to  the  fore- 
court, as  it  was  called,  where  he  beheld  Baillie  Mac- 
wheeble  cantering  his  white  pony  down  the  avenue  with 
all  the  speed  it  could  muster.  He  had  arrived,  it  would 
seem,  upon  a  hasty  summons,  and  was  followed  by  half 
a  score  of  peasants  from  the  village,  who  had  no  great 
difficulty  in  keeping  pace  with  him. 

The  Baillie,  greatly  too  busy,  and  too  important,  to 
enter  into  explanations  with  Edward,  summoned  forth 
Mr.  Saunderson,  who  appeared  with  a  countenance  in 
which  dismay  was  mingled  with  solemnity,  and  they 
immediately  entered  into  close  conference.  Davie  Gel- 
latley  was  also  seen  in  the  group,  idle  as  Diogenes  at 
Sinope,  while  his  countrymen  were  preparing  for  a 
siege.  His  spirits  always  rose  with  anything,  good  or 
bad,  which  occasioned  tumult,  and  he  continued  frisk- 
ins;,  hopping,  dancing,  and  singing  the  burden  of  an  old 
ballad,— 

''  Our  gear's  a'  g-ane," 

until,  happening  to  pass  too  near  the  Bailhe,  he  received 
an  admonitory  hint  from  his  horsewhip,  which  convert- 
ed his  songs  into  lamentation. 

Passing  from  thence  towards  the  garden,  Waverley 
beheld  the  Baron  in  person,  measuring  and  re-measur- 
ing, with  swift  and  tremendous  strides,  the  length  of  the 
terrace  ;  his  countenance  clouded  with  oiFended  pride 
and  indignation,  and  the  whole  of  his  demeanour  such 
as  seemed  to  indicate,  that  any  inquiry  concerning  the 
cause  of  his  discomposure,  would  give  pain  at  least,  if 
not  offence.  Waverley  therefore  glided  into  the  house, 
without  addressing  him,  and  took  his  way  to  the  break- 
fast parlour,  where  he  found  his  young  friend  Rose, 
who,  though  she  neither  exhibited  the  resentment  of  her 
father,  the  turbid  importance  of  Baillie  Macwheebl^,  nor 


WAVE  RLE  Y.  103 

the  despair  of  the  handmaidens,  seemed  vexed  and 
thoughtful.  A  single  word  explained  the  mystery, 
"  Your  breakfast  will  be  a  disturbed  one,  Captain  Waver- 
ley.  A  party  of  Caterans  have  come  down  upon  us 
last  night,  and  driven  off  all  our  milch  cows." 
"  A  party  of  Caterans  ?" 

"  Yes ;  robbers  from  the  neighbouring  Highlands. 
We  used  to  be  quite  free  from  them  while  we  paid  black- 
mail to  Fergus  Mac-Ivor  Vich  Ian  Vohr  ;  but  my  father 
thought  it  unworthy  of  his  rank  and  birth  to  pay  it  any 
longer,  and  so  this  disaster  has  happened.  It  is  not  the 
value  of  the  cattle,  Captain  Waverley,  that  vexes  me ; 
but  my  father  is  so  much  hurt  at  the  affront,  and  so  bold 
and  hot,  that  I  fear  he  will  try  to  recover  them  by  the 
strong  hand  ;  and  then,  if  he  is  not  hurt  himself,  he  will 
hurt  some  of  these  wild  people,  and  there  will  be  no 
peace  between  them  and  us  perhaps  for  our  lifetime ; 
and  we  cannot  defend  ourselves  as  in  old  times,  for  -the 
government    have   taken    all  our    arms ;  and    ray    dear 

father   is    so  rash— -O  what  will    become  of  us  !" 

Here  poor  Rose  lost  heart  altogether,  and  burst  into  a 
flood  of  tears. 

The  Baron  entered  at  this  moment,  and  rebuked  her 
with  more  asperity  than  Waverley  had  ever  heard  him 
use  to  any  one.  "  Was  it  not  a  shame,"  he  said,  "that 
she  should  exhibit  herself  before  any  gentleman  in  such 
a  light,  as  if  she  shed  tears  for  a  drove  of  horned  nolt 
and  milch  kine,  like  the  daughter  of  a  Cheshire  yeo- 
man ! — Captain  Waverley,  I  must  request  your  favour- 
able construction  of  her  grief,  which  may,  or  ought  to 
proceed  solely  from  seeing  her  father's  estate  exposed 
to  spulzie  and  depredation  from  common  thieves  and 
sorners,  while  w^e  are  not  allowed  to  keep  half  a  score 
of  muskets,  whether  for  defence  or  rescue." 

Baillie  Macwheeble  entered  immediately  afterwards, 
and  by  his  report  of  arms  and  ammunition,  confirmed 
this  statement,  informing  the  Baron,  in  a  melancholy 
voice,  that  though  the  people  v/ould  certainly  obey  his 
honour's  orders,   yet  there  was   no  chance  of  their  fol- 


104  WAVERLET. 

lowing  the  gear  to  ony  gude  purpose,  in  respect  there 
were  only  his  honour's  body  servants,  who  had  swords 
and  pistols,  and  the  depredators  were  twelve  Highland- 
ers, completely  armed  after  the  manner  of  their  coun- 
try.— Having  delivered  this  doleful  annunciation,  he  as- 
sumed a  posture  of  silent  dejection,  shaking  his  head 
slowly  with  the  motion  of  a  pendulum  when  it  is  ceasing 
to  vibrate,  and  then  remained  stationary,  his  body  stoop- 
ing at  a  more  acute  angle  than  usual,  and  the  latter  part 
of  his  person  projected  in  proportion. 

The  Baron,  meanwhile,  paced  the  room  in  silent  in- 
dignation, and  at  length  fixing  his  eye  upon  an  old  por- 
trait, whose  person  was  clad  in  armour,  and  whose  fea- 
tures glared  grimly  out  of  a  huge  bush  of  hair,  part  of 
which  descended  from  his  head  to  his  shoulders,  and  part 
from  his  chin  and  upper  lip  to  his  breast-plate, — "  That 
gentleman.  Captain  Waverley,  my  grandsire,"  he  said, 
"  with  two  hundred  horse,  whom  he  levied  within  his  own 
bounds,  discomfited  and  put  to  the  rout  more  than  five 
hundred  of  these  Highland  reivers,  who  have  been  ever 
lapis  offensionis,  etpeira  scandali,  a  stumbling-block  and 
a  rock  of  offence  to  the  Lowland  vicinage — he  discom- 
fited them,  1  say,  when  they  had  the  temerity  to  descend 
to  harry  this  country.  In  the  time  of  the  civil  dissensions, 
in  the  year  of  grace,  sixteen  hundred  forty  and  tv.o. 
And  now,  sir,  I,  his  grandson,  am  thus  used  at  such 
unworthy  hands!" 

Here  there  was  an  awful  pause  ;  after  which  all  the 
company,  as  is  usual  in  cases  of  difficulty,  began  to  give 
separate  and  inconsistent  counsel.  Alexander  ab  Alex- 
andro,  proposed  they  should  send  some  one  to  compound 
with  the  Caterans,  v.ho  would  readily,  he  said,  give  up 
their  prey  for  a  dollar  a-head.  The  Baillie  opined  that 
this  transaction  would  amount  to  theft-boot,  or  compo- 
sition of  felony  ;  and  he  recommended  that  some  canny 
hand  should  be  sent  up  to  the  glens  to  make  the  best 
bargain  he  could,  as  it  were  for  himself,  so  that  the 
Laird  might  not  be  seen  in  such  a  transaction.  Edward 
proposed  to  send  off  to  the  nearest  garrison  for  a  parly 


WAVERLEY.  105 

of  soldiers  and  a  magistrate's  warrant ;  and  Rose,  as  fiir 
as  she  dared,  endeavoured  to  insinuate  the  course  of 
paying  the  arrears  of  tribute  money  to  Fergus  Mac- 
Ivor  Vich  Ian  Volu',  who,  they  all  knew,  could  earsily 
procure  restoration  of  the  cattle,  if  he  were  properly 
propitiated. 

None  of  these  proposals  met  the  Baron's  approbation. 
The  idea  of  composition,  direct  or  implied,  was  absolute- 
ly ignommious  ;  that  of  Waverley  only  showed  that  he 
did  not  undei'stand  the  state  of  the  country,  and  of  the 
political  parties  which  divided  it ;  and,  standing  matters 
as  they  did  with  Fergus  Mac-Ivor  Vich  Ian  Vohr,  the 
Baron  would  make  no  concession  to  him,  were  it,  he 
said,  "  to  procure  restitution  in  integrum  of  every  stirk 
and  stot  that  his  clan  had  stolen  since  the^  days  of  Mal- 
colm Can  more." 

In  fact,  his  voice  was  still  for  w^ar,  and  he  proposed 
to  send  expresses  to  Balmawhapple,  Killancureit,  Tulli- 
ellum,  and  other  lairds,  who  were  exposed  to  similar 
depredations,  inviting  them  to  join  in  the  pursuit ;  "  and 
then,  sir,  shall  these  nehulones  nequissimi,  as  Leslaeus 
calls  them,  be  brought  to  the  fate  of  their  predecessor 
Cacus, 

Elisos  oculos,  el  siccum  sanguine  gutter." 

The  Baillie,  w4io  by  no  means  relished  these  v.-arlike 
councils,  here  pulled  forth  an  immense  watch,  of  the 
colour,  and  nearly  of  the  size,  of  a  pewter  warming- 
pan,  and  observed  it  was  now^  past  noon,  and  that  the 
Caterans  had  been  seen  in  the  pass  of  Ballybrough  soon 
after  sunrise  ;  so  that  before  the  allied  forces  could  as- 
semble, they  and  their  prey  would  be  far  beyond  the 
reach  of  the  most  active  pursuit,  and  sheltered  in  those 
pathless  deserts,  where  it  was  nehher  advisable  to  fol- 
low, nor  indeed  possible  to  trace  them. 

This  proposition  was  undeniable.  The  council  there- 
fore broke  up  without  coming  to  any  conclusion,  as  has 
occurred  to  councils  of  more  importance  ;  only  it  was 
determined  that  the   Baillie  should  send  his   own   three 


106  WAVERXEY. 

milk  cows  down  to  the  Mains  for  the  use  of  the  Baron's 
family,  and  brew  small  ale  as  a  substitute  for  milk  in  his 
own.  To  this  arrangement,  which  was  suggested  by 
Satinderson,  the  Baillie  readily  assented,  both  from  ha- 
bitual deference  to  the  family,  and  an  internal  conscious- 
ness that  his  courtesy  would,  in  some  mode  or  other,  be 
repaid  tenfold. 

The  Baron  having  also  retired  to  give  some  necessary 
directions,  Waverley  seized  the  opportunity  to  ask, 
whether  this  Fergus,  with  the  unpronounceable  name, 
were  the  chief  thief-taker  of  the  district  ? 

"  Thief-taker  !"  answered  Rose,  laughing ;  "  he  is 
a  gentleman  of  great  honour  and  consequence ;  the 
chieftain  of  an  independent  branch  of  a  powerful  High- 
land clan,  and  is  much  respected,  both  for  his  own  pow- 
er, and  that  of  his  kith,  kin,  and  allies." 

"  And  what  has  he  to  do  with  the  thieves  then  ?  Is 
he  a  magistrate,  or  in  the  commission  of  the  peace  ?" 
asked  Waverley. 

<'  The  commission  of  vrar  rather,  if  there  be  such  a 
thing,"  said  Rose  ;  "  for  he  is  a  very  unquiet  neighbour 
to  his  un-friends,  and  keeps  a  greater  following  on  foot 
than  many  that  have  thrice  his  estate.  As  to  his  con- 
nection vvith  the  thieves,  that  I  cannot  well  explain  ;  but 
the  boldest  of  them  will  never  steal  a  hoof  from  any  one 
that  pays  black-mail  to  Vich  Ian  Vohr." 

"  And  what  is  black  mail  ?" 

"  A  sort  of  protection-money  that  low  country  gen- 
tlemen and  heritors,  lying  near  the  Highlands,  pay  to 
some  Highland  chief,  that  he  may  neither  do  them  harm 
himself,  nor  suffer  it  to  be  done  to  them,  by  others ;  and 
then  if  your  cattle  are  stolen,  you  have  only  to  send  him 
word,  and  he  will  recover  them  ;  or  it  may  be,  he  will 
drive  away  cows  from  some  distant  place,  where  he  has 
a  quarrel,  and  give  them  to  you  to  make  up  your  loss." 

"  And  is  this  sort  of  Hi2:hland  Jonathan  Wild  admit- 
ted  into  society,  and  called  a  gentleman  ?" 

"  So  much  so,"  said  Rose,  "  that  the  quarrel  be- 
tween ray  father  and  Fergus  Mac-Ivor  began  at  a  coun- 


AVAVERIET.  107 

ty  meeting,  where  he  wanted  to  take  precedence  of 
all  the  Lowland  gentlemen  then  present,  only  my  father 
would  not  suffer  it.  And  then  he  upbraided  my  father 
that  he  was  under  his  banner,  and  paid  him  tribute ; 
and  my  father  was  in  a  towering  passion,  for  Baillie 
Macwheeble,  who  manages  such  things  his  own  way, 
had  contrived  to  keep  this  black-mail  a  secret  from  him, 
and  passed  it  in  his  account  for  cess-money.  And  they 
would  have  fought;  but  Fergus  Mac-Ivor  said,  very 
gallantly,  he  would  never  raise  his  hand  against  a  grey 
head  that  was  so  much  respected  as  my  father's. — 0,1 
wish,  I  wish  they  had  continued  friends  !" 

"  And  did  you  ever  see  this  Mr.  Mac-Ivor,  if  that  be 
]iis  name,  Miss  Bradwardine  r^ 

"  No,  that  is  not  his  name ;  and  he  would  consider 
'master,  as  a  sort  of  affront,  only  that  you  are  an  Eng- 
lishman, and  know  no  better.  But  the  Lowlanders  call 
him,  hke  other  gentlemen,  by  the  name  of  his  estate, 
Glennaquoich  ;  and  the  Highlanders  call  him  Vich  Ian 
Vohr,  that  is,  the  Son  of  John  the  Great ;  and  we  upon 
the  braes  here  call  him  by  both  names  indifferently." 

"I  am  afraid  I  shall  never  bring  my  English  tongue 
to  call  him  by  either  one  or  other." 

"But  he  is  a  very  pohte,  handsome  man,"  continued 
Rose  ;  '•  and  his  sister  Flora  is  one  of  the  most  beau- 
tiful and  accomplished  young  ladies  in  this  country  ;  she 
v,'as  bred  in  a  convent  in  France,  and  was  a  great  friend 
oi^  mine  before  this  unhappy  dispute.  Dear  Captaia 
Waverley,  try  your  influence  with  my  father  to  make 
matters  up.  I  am  sure  this  is  but  the  beginning  of  our 
troubles ;  for  Tully-Veolan  has  never  been  a  safe  or 
quiet  residence  when  we  have  been  at  feud  whh  the 
Highlanders.  When  I  was  a  girl  about  ten,  there  was  a 
skirmish  fought  between  a  party  of  twenty  of  them,  and 
my  father  and  his  servants,  behind  the  Mains  ;  and  the 
bullets  broke  several  panes  in  the  north  windows,  they 
were  so  near.  Three  of  the  Highlanders  were  killed, 
and  they  brought  them  in  wrapped  in  their  plaids,  and 
laid  them  on  the  stone  floor  of  the  hall  ;  and  next  morn- 


1  08  AVAVERLE  Y. 

ing,  their  wives  and  daughters  came,  clapping  their  hands, 
and  crying  the  coronach  and  shrieking,  and  carried  away 
the  dead  bodies,  with  tlie  pipes  playing  before  them. 
I  could  not  sleep  for  six  wrecks  without  starting,  and 
thinking  I  heard  these  terrible  cries,  and  saw  the  bodies 
lying  on  the  steps,  all  stiff  and  swathed  up  in  their  bloody 
tartans.  But  since  that  time  there  came  a  party  from 
the  garrison  at  Stirling,  with  a  warrant  from  the  Lord 
Justice  Clerk,  or  some  such  great  man,  and  took  away 
all  our  arms  ;  and  now,  how  are  we  to  protect  ourselves 
if  they  come  down  in  any  strength  ?" 

Waverley  could  not  help  starting  at  a  story  which  bore 
so  much  resemblance  to  one  of  his  own  day-dreams. 
Here  was  a  girl  scarce  seventeen,  the  gentlest  of  her 
sex,  both  in  temper  and  appearance,  who  had  witness- 
ed with  her  ovv^n  eyes  such  a  scene  as  he  had  used  to 
conjure  up  in  his  imagination,  as  only  occuring  in  ancient 
limes.  He  felt  at  once  the  impulse  of  curiosity,  and 
that  slight  sense  of  danger  which  only  serves  to  heighten 
its  interest.  He  might  have  said  with  Malvolio,  "  *  I 
do  not  now  fool  myself  to  let  imagination  jade  me.'  I 
am  actually  in  the  land  of  military  and  romantic  adven- 
tures, and  it  only-remains  to  be  seen  what  will  be  my 
own  share  in  them." 

The  whole  circumstances  now  detailed  concerning 
the  state  of  the  country,  seemed  equally  novel  and  ex- 
traordinary. He  had  indeed  often  heard  of  Highland 
thieves,  but  had  no  idea  of  the  systematic  mode  in 
which  their  depredations  were  conducted  ;  and  that  the 
practice  w^as  connived  at,  and  even  encouraged,  by 
many  of  the  Highland  chieftains,  who  not  only  found 
the  creaghs,  or  forays,  useful  for  the  purpose  of  train- 
ing individuals  of  their  clan  to  the  practice  of  arms, 
but  also  of  maintaining  a  wholesome  terror  among  their 
Lowland  neipjibours,  and  levying,  as  we  have  seen,  a 
tribute  from  them,  under  colour  of  protection-money. 

Baiiiie  Macwheeble,  who  soon  afterv/ards  entered,  ex- 
patiated still  more  at  length  upon  the  same  topic.  This 
honest  gentleman's  conversation  was  so  formed  upon  his 


WAVERLEY.  109 

professional  practice,  that  Davie  Gellatley  once  said  his 
discourse  was  like  a  "charge  of  horning."  He  assured 
our  hero,  that  "  from  the  maist  ancient  times  of  record, 
the  lawless  thieves,  limmers,  and  broken  men  of  the 
Highlands,  had  been  in  fellowship  together,  by  reason  of 
their  surnames,  for  the  committing  of  divers  thefts,  reifs, 
and  herships  upon  the  honest  men  of  the  low  countr  -^ 
when  they  not  only  introraitted  with  their  whole  goods 
and  gear,  corn,  cattle,  horse,  nolt,  sheep,  outsight  and 
insight  plenishing,  at  their  wicked  pleasure,  but  more- 
over made  prisoners,  ransomed  them,  or  concussed 
them  into  giving  borrows  (pledges,)  to  enter  into  cap- 
tivity again  :  All  which  was  directly  prohibited  in  divers 
parts  of  the  Statute  Book,  both  by  the  act  one  thousand 
five  hundred  and  sixty-seven,  and  various  others  ;  the 
whilk  statutes,  with  all  that  had  followed  and  might  fol- 
low thereupon,  were  shamefully  broken  and  villipended 
by  the  said  sorners,  limmers,  and  broken  men,  associa- 
ted into  fellowships  for  the  aforesaid  purposes  of  theft, 
stouthreef,  fire-raising,  murther,  raptus  muUerum,  or  for- 
cible abduction  of  women,  and  such  hke  as  aforesaid. 

It  seemed  like  a  dream  to  Waverley  that  these  deeds 
of  violence  should  be  famihar  to  men's  minds,  and  cur- 
rently  talked  of,  as  falling  within  the  common  order  of 
things,  and  happening  daily  in  the  immediate  neighbour- 
hood, without  his  having  crossed  the  seas,  and  while  he 
was  yet  in  the  otherwise  well-ordered  island  of  Great 
Britain. 

10       VOL.    I. 


110  WAVERLEY. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

An  unexpected  Ally  appears. 

The  Baron  returned  at  the  dinner  hour,  and  had  in  a 
great  measure  recovered  his  composure  and  good  hu- 
mour. He  not  only  confirmed  the  stories  which  Edward 
had  heard  from  Rose  and  BailJie  Macwheeble,  but  ad- 
ded many  anecdotes  from  his  own  experience,  concern- 
ing the  state  of  the  Highlands  and  their  inhabitants. 
The  chiefs,  he  pronounced  to  be,  in  general,  gentlemen 
of  great  honour  and  high  pedigree,  whose  word  was 
accounted  as  a  law  by  all  those  of  their  own  sept  or 
clan.  "  It  did  not  indeed,"  he  said,  "  become  them, 
as  had  occurred  in  late  instances,  to  propone  ihe'ir pros- 
apia,  a  lineage,  which  rested  for  the  most  part  on  the 
vain  and  fond  rhimes  of  their  Seannachies  or  Bhairds, 
as  gequiponderate  with  the  evidence  of  ancient  charters 
and  royal  grants  of  antiquity,  conferred  upon  distinguish- 
ed houses  in  the  low  country  by  divers  Scottish  mon- 
archs ;  nevertheless,  such  was  their  cuirecuidance  and 
presumption,  as  to  undervalue  those  who  possessed  such 
evidents,  as  if  they  held  their  Ifmds  in-  a  sheep's  skin." 

This,  by  the  way,  pretty  well  explained  the  cause  of 
quarrel  between  the  Baron  and  his  Highland  ally.  But 
he  went  on  to  state  so  many  curious  particulars  concern- 
ing the  manners,  customs,  and  habits  of  this  patriarchal 
race,  that  Edward's  curiosity  became  highly  interested, 
and  he  inquired  whether  it  was  possible  to  make  witli 
safety  an  excursion  into  the  neighbouring  Highlands, 
whose  dusky  barrier  of  mountains  had  already  excited 
his  wish  to  penetrate  beyond  them.  The  Baron  assured 
his  guest  that  nothing  would  be  more  easy,  providing 
this  quarrel  were  first  made  up,  since  he  could  himseii 
g:v3  liim  letters  to  many  of  the  distinguished  chiefs,  v.ho 


W A YE RLE Y 


111 


would  receive  him  with  the  utmost  courtesy  and  hospi- 
tality. 

While  they  were  on  this  topic,  the  door  suddenly 
opened,  and,  ushered  by  Saunders  Saunderson,  a  High- 
lander, fully  armed  and  equipped,  entered  the  apart- 
ment. Had  it  not  been  that  Saunders  acted  the  part 
of  master  of  the  ceremonies  to  this  martial  apparition, 
without  appearing  to  deviate  from  his  usual  composure, 
and  that  neither  Mr.  Bradwardine  nor  Rose  exhibited 
any  emotion,  Edward  would  certainly  have  thought  the 
intrusion  hostile.  As  it  was,  he  started  at  the  sight  of 
what  he  had  not  yet  happened  to  see,  a  mountaineer  in 
his  full  national  costume.  The  individual  Gael  was  a 
stout  dark  man  of  low  stature,  the  ample  folds  of  whose 
plaid  added  to  the  appearance  of  strength  which  his 
person  exhibited.  The  short  kilt  or  petticoat,  showed 
his  sinewy  and  clean-made  hmbs  ;  the  goat-skin  purse, 
flanked  by  the  usual  defences,  a  dirk  and  steel-wrought 
pistol,  hung  before  him ;  his  bonnet  had  a  short  feather, 
which  indicated  his  claim  to  be  treated  as  a  Duinhe- 
Wassel,  or  sort  of  gentleman ;  a  broad-sword  dangled 
by  his  side,  a  target  hung  upon  his  shoulder,  and  a  long 
Spanish  fowhng-piece  occupied  one  of  his  hands.  With 
the  other  hand  he  pulled  off  his  bonnet,  and  the  Baron, 
who  well  knew  their  customs,  and  the  proper  mode  of 
addressing  them,  immediately  said,  with  an  air  of  dig- 
nity, without  rising,  and  much,  as  Edward  thought,  in 
the  manner  of  a  prince  receiving  an  embassy,  "  Wel- 
come, Evan  Dhu  Maccombich ;  what  news  from  Fergus 
Mac-Ivor  Vich  Ian  Vohr  ?" 

"  Fergus  Mac-Ivor  Vich  Ian  Vohr,"  said  the  ambas- 
sador, in  good  Enghsh,  "  greets  you  well.  Baron  of 
Bradwardine  and  TuUy-Veolan,  and  is  sorry  there  has 
been  a  thick  cloud  interposed  betwixt  you  and  him, 
which  has  kept  you  from  seeing  and  considering  the 
friendship  and  alliances  that  have  been  between  your 
houses  and  forbears  of  old ;  and  he  prays  you  that  the 
cloud  may  pass  away,  and  that  things  may  be  as  they 
have  been  heretofore  between    the  clan  Ivor   and  the 


112 


AVAVERLEY. 


.xouse  of  Bradvvardine,  when  there  was  an  egg  between 
them  for  a  flint,  and  a  knife  for  a  sword.  And  he  ex- 
pects you  will  also  say,  you  are  sorry  for  the  cloud, 
and  no  man  shall  hereafter  ask  whether  it  descended 
irom  the  hill  to  the  valley,  or  rose  from  the  valley  to  the 
hill  ;  for  they  never  struck  with  the  scabbard  who  did 
not  receive  with  the  sword,  and  woe  to  him  who  would 
lose  his  friend  for  the  stormy  cloud  of  a  spring  morning." 

To  this  the  Baron  of  Bradwardine  answered  with 
suitable  dignity,  that  he  knew  the  chief  of  clan  Ivor  to 
be  a  well-wisher  to  the  King,  and  he  was  sorry  there 
should  have  been  a  cloud  between  him  and  any  gentle- 
man of  such  sound  principles,  "  for  when  folks  are  band- 
ing together,  feeble  is  he  who  hath  no  brother." 

This  appearing  perfectly  satisfactory,  that  the  peace 
between  these  august  persons  might  be  duly  solemniz- 
ed, the  Baron  ordered  a  stoup  of  usquebaugh,  and,  fill- 
ing a  glass,  drank  to  the  health  and  prosperity  of  Mac- 
Ivor  of  Glennaquoich  ;  upon  which  the  Celtic  ambas- 
sador, to  requite  his  politeness,  turned  down  a  mighty 
bumper  of  the  same  generous  liquor,  seasoned  with  his 
good  vrishes  to  the  house  of  Bradwardine. 

Having  thus  ratified  the  preliminaries  of  the  general 
treaty  of  pacification,  the  envoy  retired,  to  adjust  with 
Mr.  Macwheeble  some  subordinate  articles,  with  which 
it  was  not  thought  necessary  to  trouble  the  Baron.  These 
probably  referred  to  the  discontinuance  of  the  subsidy, 
and  appai-ently  the  Baillie  found  means  to  satisfy  their 
ally,  without  suffering  his  master  to  suppose  that  his  dig- 
nity was  compromised.  At  least,  it  is  certain,  that  after 
the  plenipotentiaries  had  drank  a  bottle  of  brandy  in 
single  drams,  w^hich  seemed  to  have  no  more  effect 
upon  such  seasoned  vessels,  than  if  it  had  been  poured 
upon  the  two  bears  at  the  top  of  the  avenue,  Evan  Dhu 
Maccombich  having  possessed  himself  of  all  the  infor- 
mation which  he  could  procure  respecting  the  robbery 
of  the  preceding  night,  declared  his  intention  to  set  off 
immediately  in  pursuit  of  the  cattle,  which  he  pronoun- 
ced to   be  '*no  that   far  off; — they   have  broken    the 


WAVE  RLE  T.  Ho 

bone,"  he  observed,  "  but  they  have  had  no  time  to  suck 
the  marrow." 

Our  hero,  who  had  attended  Evan  Dhu  during  his 
perquisitions,  was  much  struck  with  the  ingenuity  which 
he  displayed  in  collecting  information,  and  the  precise 
and  pointed  conclusions  which  he  drew  from  it.  Evan 
Dhu,  on  his  part,  was  obviously  flattered  with  the  at- 
tention of  Waverley,  the  interest  he  seemed  to  take  in 
his  inquiries,  and  his  curiosity  about  the  customs  and 
scenery  of  the  Highlands.  Without  much  ceremony  he 
invited  Edward  to  accompany  him  on  a  short  walk  of 
ten  or  fifteen  miles  into  the  mountains,  and  see  the 
place  where  the  cattle  were  conveyed  to  ;  adding,  '•  If 
it  be  as  I  suppose,  you  never  saw  such  a  place  in  your 
life,  nor  ever  will,  unless  you  go  with  me  or  the  like  of 
me." 

Our  hero,  feeling  his  curiosity  considerably  excited 
by  the  idea  of  visiting  the  den  of  a  Highland  Cacus, 
took,  however,  the  precaution  to  inquire  if  his  guide 
might  be  trusted.  He  was  assured,  that  the  invitation 
would  on  no  account  have  been  given,  had  there  been 
the  least  danger,  and  that  all  he  had  to  apprehend  v/as 
a  little  fatigue  ;  and  as  Evan  proposed  he  should  pass  a 
day  at  his  chieftain's  house  in  returning,  where  he  would 
be  sure  of  good  accommodation  and  an  excellent  wel- 
come, there  seemed  nothing  very  formidable  in  the  task 
he  undertook.  Rose,  indeed,  turned  pale  when  sh 
heard  of  it :  but  her  father,  who  loved  the  spirited  c.:- 
riosity  of  his  young  friend,  did  not  attempt  to  danip  it 
by  an  alarm  of  danger  which  really  did  not  exist ;  and  a 
knaj^ack,  with  a  few  necessaries,  being  bound  en  tbe 
shoulders  of  a  sort  of  deputy  gamekeeper,  our  hero  sct 
forth  v/ith  a  fowhng-piece  in  his  hand,  accompanied  by 
his  new  friend  Evan  Dhu,  and  follo-ved  by  die  game- 
keeper aforesaid,  and  by  two  wild  Highlanders,  the  at- 
tendants of  Evan,  one  of  whom  had  upon  his  shoulder 
a  hatchet  at  the  end  of  a  pole,  called  a  Lochaber-axe. 
and  the   other  a  long  ducking-s:un.       Evan,  upon   Ed- 

10*    VOL.    I. 


114  WAVERLEY. 

ward's  inquiry,  gave  him  to  understand,  that  this  martial 
escort  was  by  no  means  necessary  as  a  guard,  but  mere- 
ly, as  he  said,  drawing  up  and  adjusting  liis  plaid  with 
an  air  of  dignity,  that  he  might  appear  decently  at  Tully- 
V'eolan,  and  as  Vich  Ian  Vohr's  foster-brother  ought 
to  do.  "  Ah  !"  said  he,  "  if  you  Saxon  Duinhe-wassal 
(Enghsh  gentleman)  saw  but  the  chief  himself  with  his 
tail  on  !" 

"  With  his  tail  on  f "  echoed  Edward  in  some  sur- 
prise. 

"  Yes — that  is,  with  all  his  usual  followers,  when  he 
visits  those  of  the  same  rank.  There  is,"  he  continued, 
stopping  and  drawing  himself  proudly  up,  while  he 
counted  upon  his  fingers  the  several  officers  of  his  chief's 
retinue  ;  ^'  there  is  his  hanchman,  or  right-hand  man  ; 
then  his  hard,  or  poet ;  then  his  hladier,  or  orator,  to 
make  harangues  to  the  great  folks  whom  he  visits ;  then 
his  gilly-inore,  or  armour-bearer,  to  carry  his  sword, 
and  target,  and  his  gun  ;  then  his  giUy-casfliuch,  who 
carries  him  on  his  back  through  the  sikes  and  brooks  ; 
then  his  gilly-comstrian,  to  lead  his  horse  by  the  bridle 
in  steep  and  difficult  paths  ;  then  his  gilly'trusJiarnish, 
to  carry  his  knapsack  ;  and  the  piper  and  the  piper's 
man,  and  it  may  be  a  dozen  young  lads  beside,  that  have 
no  business,  but  are  just  boys  of  the  belt  to  follow  the 
laird,  and  do  his  honour's  bidding." 

"  And  does  your  Chief  regularly  maintain  all  these 
men  f"  demanded  VVaverley. 

"  All  these  ?"  replied  Evan  ;  "  ay,  and  many  a  fair 
head  beside,  that  would  not  ken  where  to  lay  itself,  but 
for  the  mickle  barn  at  Glennaquoich." 

With  similar  tales  of  the  grandeur  of  the  chief  in 
peace  and  war,  Evan  Dhu  beguiled  the  way  till  they 
npproached  more  closely  those  huge  mountains  which 
Edward  had  hitherto  only  seen  at  a  distance.  It  was 
towards  evening  asthty  entered  one  of  those  tremendous 
passes  which  afford  communication  between  the  high 
and  k>w  country  ;  tl-;e  path,  which  was  extremely  steep 
and  rugged,  winded  rip  a  chasm   between  two  tremen* 


AVAVERLEY.  115 

dous  rocks,  following  the  passage  which  a  foaming 
stream,  that  brawled  far  below,  appeared  to  have  worn 
for  itself  in  the  course  of  ages.  A  few  slanting  beams 
of  the  sun,  which  was  now  setting,  reached  the  water  in 
its  darksome  bed,  and  showed  it  partially,  chafed  by  a 
hundred  rocks,  and  broken  by  a  hundred  falls.  The 
descent  from  the  path  to  the  stream  was  a  mere  preci- 
pice, with  here  and  there  a  projecting  fragment  of  gran- 
ite, or  a  scathed  tree,  which  had  warped  its  twisted 
roots  into  the  fissures  of  the  rock.  On  the  right  hand, 
the  mountain  rose  above  the  path  with  almost  equal  in- 
accessibihty  ;  but  the  hill  on  the  opposite  side  displayed 
a  shroud  of  copsewood,  with  which  some  pines  were  in- 
termingled. 

"  This,"  said  Evan,  "  is  the  pass  of  Bally-Brough, 
which  was  kept  in  former  times  by  ten  of  the  clan 
Donnochie  against  a  hundred  of  the  low  country  carles. 
The  graves  of  the  slain  are  still  to  be  seen  in  that  little 
corri,  or  bottom,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  burn — if 
your  eyes  are  good,  you  may  see  the  green  specks 
among  the  heather. — See,  there  is  an  earn,  which  you 
southrons  call  an  eagle — you  have  no  such  birds  as 
that  in  England — he  is  going  to  fetch  his  supper  from 
the  laird  of  Bradwardine's  braes,  but  I'll  send  a  slug 
after  him." 

He  fired  his  piece  accordingly,  but  missed  the  superb 
monarch  of  the  feathered  tribes,  who,  without  noticing 
the  attempt  to  annoy  him,  continued  his  majestic  flight 
to  the  southward.  A  thousand  birds  of  prey,  hawks, 
kites,  carrion-crows,  and  ravens,  disturbed  from  the 
lodgings  which  they  had  just  taken  up  for  the  evening, 
rose  at  the  report  of  the  gun,  and  mingled  their  hoarse 
and  discordant  notes  with  the  echoes  which  replied  to 
it,  and  with  the  roar  of  the  mountain  cataracts.  Evan, 
a  little  disconcerted  at  having  missed  his  mark,  when  he 
meant  to  have  displayed  peculiar  dexterity,  covered  his 
confusion  by  whistling  part  of  a  pibroch  as  he  reloaded 
his  piece,  and  proceeded  in  silence  up  the  pass. 


116  AVAVERLEY. 

It  issued  in  a  narrow  glen,  between  two  mountains, 
both  very  lofty  and  covered  with  heath.  The  brook 
continued  to  be  their  companion,  and  they  advanced  up 
its  mazes,  crossing  them  now  and  then,  on  which  occa- 
sions Evan  Dhu  uniformly  offered  the  assistance  of  his 
attendants  to  carry  over  Edward  ;  but  our  hero,  who 
had  been  always  a  tolerable  pedestrian,  declined  the  ac- 
commodation, and  obviously  rose  in  his  guide's  opinion, 
by  showing  that  he  did  not  fear  welting  his  feet.  In- 
deed he  was  anxious,  so  far  as  he  could  without  affec- 
tation, to  remove  the  opinion  which  Evan  seemed  to 
entertain  of  the  effeminacy  of  the  Lowlanders,  and  par- 
ticularly of  the  English. 

Through  the  gorge  of  this  glen  they  found  access  to 
a  black  bog,  of  tremendous  extent,  full  of  large  pit- 
holes,  which  they  traversed  whh  great  difficulty  and  some 
danger,  by  tracks  which  no  one  but  a  Highlander  could 
have  followed.  The  path  itself,  or  rather  the  portion 
of  more  solid  ground  on  which  the  travellers  half  walk- 
ed, half  waded,  was  rough,  broken,  and  in  many  places 
quaggy  and  unsound.  Sometimes  the  ground  was  so 
completely  unsafe,  tliat  it  was  necessary  to  spring  from 
one  hillock  to  another,  the  space  between  being  incapa- 
ble of  bearing  the  human  weight.  This  was  an  easy 
matter  to  the  Highlanders,  who  wore  thin-soled  brogues 
lit  for  the  purpose,  and  moved  with  a  peculiar  springing 
step  ;  but  Edward  began  to  find  the  exercise,  to  which 
he  was  unaccustomed,  more  fatiguir>g  tliarl^he  expecter!. 
The  lingering  twilight  served  to  shew  them  through  this 
Serbonian  bog,  but  deserted  them  almost  totally  at  the 
bottom  of  a  steep  and  very  stony  hill,  ^vhich  it  was  the 
travellers'  next  toilsome  task  to  ascend.  The  night, 
however,  was  pleasant,  and  not  dark  ;  and  Wavcrley, 
calling  up  mental  energy  to  support  personal,  fatigue, 
held  on  his  march  gallantly,  though  envying  in  his  iicart 
his  Highland  attendants,  who  continued,  without  a  symp- 
tom of  abated  vigour,  the  rapid  and  swinging  pace,  or 
rather  trot, which,  according  to  his  computation,  had  al- 
ready brouglit  them  fifteen  miles  upon  their  journey. 


WAVE  RLE  Y.  117 

After  crossing  this  mountain,  and  descending  on  the 
other  side  towards  a  thick  wood,  Evan  Dhu  held  sonie 
conference  with  his  Highland  attendants,  in  consequence 
of  which  Edward's  baggage  was  shifted  from  the  shoul- 
ders of  the  game-keeper  to  that  of  one  of  the  gillies, 
and  the  former  w^as  sent  off  with  the  other  mountaineer 
in  a  direction  different  from  that  of  the  three  remaining 
travellers.  On  asking  the  meaning  of  this  separation, 
Waverley  was  told  that  the  Lovdander  must  go  to  a 
hamlet  about  three  miles  off  for  the  night ;  for  unless  it 
was  some  very  particular  friend,  Donald  Bean  Lean,  the 
worthy  person  whom  they  supposed  to  be  possessed  of 
the  cattle,  did  not  much  approve  of  strangers  approaching 
his  retreat.  This  seemed  reasonable,  and  silenced  a 
qualm  of  suspicion  which  came  across  Edward's  mind, 
when  he  saw  himself,  at  sucli  a  place  and  such  an  hour, 
deprived  of  his  only  Lowland  companion.  And  Evan 
immediately  afterwards  added,  "  that  indeed  he  himself 
had  better  get  forward,  and  announce  their  approach  to 
Donald  Bean  Lean,  as  the  arrival  of  a  sidier  roy,  (red 
soldier)  might  otherwise  be  a  disagreeable  surprise." 
And  without  waiting  for  an  answer,  in  jockey  phrase,  he 
trotted  out,  and  putting  himself  to  a  very  round  pace, 
was  out  of  sight  in  an  "instant. 

Waverley  was  now  left  to  his  own  meditations,  for  his 
attendant  with  the  battle-axe  spoke  very  little  English. 
They  were  ti^^ersing  a  thick,  and  as  it  seemed,  an  end- 
less wood  of  ^nes,  and  consequently  the  path  was  alto- 
gether indiscernible  in  the  murky  darkness  which  sur- 
rounded them.  The  Highlander,  however,  seemed  to 
trace  it  by  instinct,  without  the  hesitation  of  a  moment, 
and  Edward  followed  his  footsteps  as  close  as  he  could. 

After  journeying  a  considerable  time  in  silence,  he 
could  not  help  asking,  "  Was  it  far  to  the  end  of  their 
journey  .^" 

"  Ta  cove  was  tree,  four  mile  ;  but  as  Duinhe-wassal 
was  a  wee  taiglit,  Donald  could,  tat  is,  might — would — 
should  send  ta  curradi." 


118  WAVERLEY. 

This  conveyed  no  information.  The  curragh  which 
was  promised  might  be  a  man,  a  horse,  a  cart,  or  chaise  ; 
and  no  more  could  be  got  from  the  man  with  the  battle- 
axe  but  a  repetition  of  "  Aich  aye  !  ta  curragh." 

But  in  a  short  time  Edward  began  to  conceive  his 
meaning,  when,  issuing  from  the  wood,  he  found  himself 
on  the  banks  of  a  large  river  or  lake,  where  his  conduc- 
tor gave  him  to  understand  they  must  sit  down  for  a  little 
while.  The  moon,  which  now  began  to  rise,  showed 
obscurely  the  expanse  of  water  which  spread  before 
them,  and  the  shapeless  and  indistinct  forms  of  mountains, 
with  which  it  seemed  to  be  surrounded.  The  cool,  and 
yet  mild  air  of  the  summer  night,  refreshed  Waverley 
after  his  rapid  and  toilsome  walk  ;  and  the  perfume  which 
it  wafted  from  the  birch  trees,  bathed  in  the  evening 
dew,  was  exquisitely  fragrant. 

He  had  now  time  to  give  himself  up  to  the  full  ro- 
mance of  his  situation.  Here  he  sate  on  the  banks  of 
an  unknown  lake,  under  the  guidance  of  a  wild  native, 
whose  language  was  unknown  to  him,  on  a  visit  to  the 
den  of  some  renowned  out-law,  a  second  Robin  Hood, 
perhaps,  or  Adam  o'  Gordon,  and  that  at  deep  midnight, 
through  scenes  of  difficulty  and  toil,  separated  from  his 
attendant,  left  by  his  guide  : — What  a  fund  of  circum- 
stances for  the  exercise  of  a  romantic  imagination,  and 
all  enhanced  by  the  solemn  feeling  of  uncertainty  at  least, 
if  not  of  danger  !  The  only  circumstance^'hich  assorted 
ill  with  die  rest  was  the  cause  of  his  joufkey — the  Bar- 
on's milk  cows  !  this  degrading  incident  he  kept  in  the 
back  ground. 

While  wrapt  in  these  dreams  of  imagination  his  com- 
panion gently  touched  him,  and,  pointing  in  a  direction 
nearly  straight  across  the  lake,  said,  "  Yon's  ta  cove." 
A  small  point  of  light  was  seen  to  twinkle  in  the  direc- 
tion in  which  he  pointed,  and,  gradually  increasing  in  size 
and  lustre,  seemed  to  flicker  like  a  meteor  upon  the 
verge  of  the  horizon.  While  Edward  watched  this  phe- 
nomenon, the  distant  dash  of  oars  w^as  heard.  The 
measured  sound   approached  near  and  more  near,  and 


AVAVERLEY.  1  19 

presently  a  loud  whistle  was  heard  in  the  same  direction. 
His  friend  with  the  battle-axe  immediately  whistled  clear 
and  shrill,  in  reply  to  the  signal,  and  a  boat  manned  with 
four  or  five  Higlilanders,  pushed  for  the  little  inlet,  near 
which  Edward  was  seated.  He  advanced  to  meet  them 
with  his  attendant,  was  immediately  assisted  into  the  boat 
by  the  officious  attention  of  two  stout  mountaineers,  and 
had  no  sooner  seated  himself  than  they  resumed  their 
oars,  and  began  to  row  across  the  lake  with  great  rapidity. 


CHAPTER  XVn. 

The  Hold  of  a  Highland  Robber. 

The  party  preserved  silence,  interrupted  only  by  the 
monotonous  and  murmured  chant  of  a  Gaelic  song, 
sung  in  a  kind  of  low  recitative  by  the  steersman,  and 
by  the  dash  of  the  oars,  which  the  notes  seemed  to  reg- 
ulate, as  they  dipped  to^them  in  cadence.  The  light, 
which  they  now  approached  more  nearly,  assumed  a 
broader,  redder,  and  more  irregular  splendour.  It  ap- 
peared plainly  to  be  a  large  fire,  but  whether  kindled 
upon  an  island  or  the  main  iand,  Edward  could  not  de- 
termine. As  he  saw  it,  the  red  glaring  orb  seemed  to 
rest  on  the  very  surface  of  the  lake  itself,  and  resembled 
the  fiery  vehicle  in  which  the  Evil  Genius  of  an  oriental 
tale  traverses  land  and  sea.  They  approached  nearer, 
and  the  light  of  the  fire  sufficed  to  show  that  it  was 
kindled  at  the  bottom  of  a  huge  dark  crag  or  rock,  rising 
abruptly  from  the  very  edge  of  the  water  ;  its  front, 
changed  by  the  reflection  to  dusky  red,  formed  a  strange, 
and  even  awful  contrast  to  the  banks  around,  which  were 
from  time  to  time  faintly  and  partially  illuminated  by  a 
pallid  moonlight. 


120  WAVERLEY. 

The  boat  now  neared  the  shore,  and  Edward  could 
discover  that  this  large  fire,  amply  supplied  with  branches 
of  pine-wood  by  two  figures,  who,  in  the  red  reflection 
of  its  light  appeared  like  demons,  was  kindled  in  the 
jaws  of  a  lofty  cavern,  into  which  an  inlet  from  the  lake 
seemed  to  advance  ;  and  he  conjectured,  which  was  in- 
deed true,  that  the  fire  had  been  lighted  as  a  beacon  to 
the  boatmen  on  their  return.  They  rowed  right  for  the 
mouth  of  the  cave,  and  then  shipping  their  oars,  permit- 
ted the  boat  to  enter  with  the  impulse  which  it  had  re- 
ceived. The  skiff  passed  the  little  point,  or  platform, 
of  rock  on  which  the  fire  was  blazing,  and  running  about 
two  boats'  length  farther,  stopped  where  the  cavern,  (for 
it  was  already  arched  overhead,)  ascended  from  the  water 
by  five  or  six  broad  ledges  of  rocks,  so  easy  and  regular 
that  they  might  be  termed  natural  steps.  At  this  moment 
a  quantity  of  water  was  suddenly  flung  upon  the  fire, 
which  sunk  with  a  hissing  noise,  and  with  it  disappeared 
the  light  it  had  hitherto  afforded.  Four  or  five  active 
arms  lifted  Waverley  out  of  the  boat,  placed  him  on  his 
feet,  and  almost  carried  him  into  the  recesses  of  the 
cave.  He  made  a  few  paces  in  darkness,  guided  in  this 
manner  ;  and  advancing  towards  a  hum  of  voices,  which 
seemed  to  sound  from  the  centre  of  the  rock,  at  an  acute 
turn  Donald  Bean  Lean  and  his  whole  establishment 
were  before  his  eyes. 

The  interior  of  the  cave,  which  here  rose  very  high, 
was  illuminated  by  torches  made  of  pine-tree,  which 
emitted  a  bright  and  bickering  light,  attended  by  a  strong, 
thou2;]i  not  unpleasant  odour.  Their  light  was  assisted 
[Dy  the  red  glare  of  a  large  charcoal  fire,  round  which 
were  seared  five  or  six  armed  Highlanders,  while  others 
were  indistinctly  seen  couched  on  their  plaids,  in  the 
more  remote  recesses  of  the  cavern.  In  one  large  aper- 
tiure,  which  the  robber  facetiously  called  his  spence  (or 
pnntry,)  there  hung  by  the  heels  the  carcasses  of  a. 
sheep,  or  ewe,  and  two  cows,  lately  slaughtered.  The 
principal  inhabitant  of  this  singular  mansion,  attended  by 
Evan   Dhu  as  master  of  the  ceremonies,  came  forward 


WAVERLET.  121 

to  meet  his  guest,  totally  different  in  appearance  and 
manner  from  what  his  imagination  had  anticipated.  The 
profession  which  he  followed — the  wilderness  in  which 
he  dwelt — the  wild  warrior  forms  that  surrounded  him, 
were  all  calculated  to  inspire  terror.  From  such  accom- 
paniments, Waverley  prepared  himself  to  meet  a  stern, 
gigantic,  ferocious  figure,  such  as  Salvator  would  have 
chosen  to  be  the  central  object  of  a  group  of  banditti. 

Donald  Bean  Lean  was  the  very  reverse  of  all  these. 
He  was  thin  in  person  and  low  in  stature,  with  hght 
sandy-coloured  hair  and  small  pale  features,  from  which 
he  derived  his  agnomen  of  Bean,  or  white  ;  and  although 
his  form  was  hght,  well  proportioned,  and  active,  he  ap- 
peared, on  the  whole,  rather  a  diminutive  and  insignifi- 
cant figure.  He  had  served  in  some  inferior  capacity  in 
the  French  army,  and  in  order  to  receive  his  English 
visiter  in  great  form,  and  probably  meaning,  in  his  way, 
to  pay  him  a  compliment,  he  had  laid  aside  the  Highland 
dress  for  the  time,  to  put  on  an  old  blue  and  red  uniform, 
and  a  feathered  hat,  in  which  he  was  far  from  showing  to 
advantage,  and  indeed  looked  so  incongruous,  compared 
with  all  around  him,  that  Waverley  would  have  been 
tempted  to  laugh,  had  laughter  been  either  civil  or  safe. 
He  received  Captain  Waverley  with  a  profusion  of  French 
politeness  and  Scottish  hospitality,  seemed  perfectly  to 
know  his  name  and  connexions,  and  to  be  particularly 
acquainted  with  his  uncle's  political  principles.  On  these 
he  bestowed  great  applause,  to  which  Waverley  judged 
it  prudent  to  make  a  very  general  reply. 

Being  placed  at  a  convenient  distance  from  the  char- 
coal fire,  the  heat  of  which  the  season  rendered  oppres- 
sive, a  strapping  Highland  dam.sel  placed  before  Waver- 
ley, Evan,  and  Donald  Bean,  three  cogues,  or  wooden 
vessels,  composed  of  staves  and  hoops,  containing  eana- 
ruich,  a  sort  of  strong  soup  made  out  of  a  particular 
part  of  the  inside  of  the  beeves.  After  this  refresliment, 
which,  though  coarse,  fatigue  and  hunger  rendered  pala- 
table, steaks,  roasted  on  the  coals,  were  supplied  in  hb- 

11        VOL.    I. 


122 


MAVERJiEY. 


eral  abundance,  and  disappeared  before  Evan  Dhu  and 
their  host  with  a  promptitude  that  seemed  hke  magic,  and 
astonished  Waverley,  who  was  much  puzzled  to  reconcile 
their  voracity  with  what  he  had  heard  of  the  abstemious- 
ness of  the  Highlanders.  He  was  ignorant  that  this 
abstinence  was  with  the  lower  ranks  wholly  compulsory, 
and  that,  like  some  animals  of  prey,  those  who  practise 
it  were  usually  gifted  with  the  power  of  indemnifying 
themselves  to  good  purpose,  w^hen  chance  threw  plenty 
in  their  way.  The  whisky  came  forth  in  abundance  to 
crown  the  cheer.  The  Highlanders  drank  it  copiousl}' 
and  undiluted  ;  but  Edward,  having  mixed  a  little  with 
water,  did  not  find  it  so  palatable  as  to  invite  him  to  re- 
peat the  draught.  The  host  bewailed  himself  exceed- 
ingly that  he  could  offer  no  wine  :  "  Had  he  but 
known  four-and-twenty  hours  before,  he  would  have  had 
some,  had  it  been  within  the  circle  of  forty  miles  round 
him.  But  no  gentleman  could  do  more  to  show  his 
sense  of  the  honour  of  a  visit  from  another,  than  to 
offer  him  the  best  cheer  his  house  afforded.  Where 
there  are  no  bushes  there  can  be  no  nuts,  and  the  way 
of  those  you  Hve  with  is  that  you  must  follow." 

He  went  on  regretting  to  Evan  Dhu  the  death  of  an 
aged  man,  Donnacha  an  Amrigh,  or  Duncan  with  the 
Cap,  "  a  gifted  seer,"  who  foretold,  through  the  second 
sight,  visiters  of  every  description  who  haunted  their 
dwelling,  whether  as  friends  or  foes. 

"  Is  not  his  son  Malcolm  taishatr  (a  seer)  .^"  asked 
Evan. 

"  Nothing  equal  to  his  father,"  replied  Donald  Bean. 
"  He  told  us  the  other  day  we  were  to  see  a  great  gen- 
tleman riding  on  a  horse,  and  there  came  nobody  that 
whole  day  but  Shemus  Beg,  the  blind  harper,  with  his 
dog.  Another  time  he  advertised  us  of  a  wedding,  and 
behold  it  proved  a  funeral  ;  and  on  the  creagh,  when  he 
foretold  to  us  we  should  bring  home  a  hundred  head  of 
horned  cattle,  we  grippit  nothing  but  a  fat  Baillie  of 
Perth." 


WAVERLET.  123 

From  this  discourse  he  passed  to  the  poHtical  and 
military  state  of  the  country  ;  and  Waverley  was  aston- 
ished, and  even  alarmed,  to  find  a  person  of  this  des- 
cription so  accurately  acquainted  with  the  strength  of  the 
various  garrisons  and  regiments  quartered  north  of  the 
Tay.  He  even  mentioned  the  exact  number  of  recruits 
who  had  joined  Waverley's  troop  from  his  uncle's  estate, 
and  observed  they  were  pretty  men,  meaning  not  hand- 
some, but  stout  warlike  fellows.  He  put  Waverley  in 
mind  of  one  or  two  m^inute  circumstances  which  had  hap- 
pened at  a  general  review  of  the  regiment,  which  satisfi- 
ed him  that  the  robber  had  been  an  eye-witness  of  it ; 
and  Evan  Dhu  having  by  this  time  retired  from  the  con- 
versation, and  wrapped  himself  up  in  his  plaid  to  take 
some  repose,  Donald  asked  Edward  in  a  very  significant 
manner,  whether  he  had  nothing  particular  to  say  to  him. 

Waverley,  surprised  and  somewhat  starded  at  this 
question  from  such  a  character,  answered  he  had  no 
motive  in  visiting  him  but  curiosity  to  see  his  extraordi- 
nary place  of  residence.  Donald  Bean  Lean  looked 
him  steadily  in  the  face  for  an  instant,  and  then  said, 
with  a  significant  nod,  "  You  might  as  well  have  confided 
in  me  ;  lam  as  much  worthy  of  trust  as  either  the  Baron 
of  Bradwardine  or  Vich  Ian  Vohr  : — but  you  are  equally 
welcome  to  my  house." 

Waverley  felt  an  involuntary  shudder  creep  over  him 
at  the  mysterious  language  held  by  this  outlawed  and 
lawless  bandit,  which,  in  despite  of  his  attempts  to  mas- 
ter it,  deprived  him  of  the  power  to  ask  the  meaning  of 
his  insinuations.  A  heath  pallet,  with  the  flowers  stuck 
uppermost,  had  been  prepared  for  him  in  a  recess  of  the 
cave,  and  here,  covered  with  such  spare  plaids  as  could 
be  mustered,  he  lay  for  some  time  watching  the  motions 
of  the  other  inhabitants  of  the  cavern.  Small  parties 
of  two  or  three  entered  or  left  the  place  without  any 
other  ceremony  than  a  few  words  in  Gaelic  to  the  prin- 
cipal outlaw,  and,  when  he  fell  asleep,  to  a  tall  Highlander 
who  acted  as  his  lieutenant,  and  seemed  to  keep  watch 
during  his  repose.     Those  who  entered,  seemed  to  have 


124  WAVERJLEY. 

returned  from  some  excursion,  of  which  they  reported 
the  success,  and  went  without  farther  ceremony  to  the 
larder,  where  cutting  with  their  dirks  their  rations  from 
the  carcasses  which  were  there  suspended,  they  proceed- 
ed to  broil  and  eat  them  at  their  own  pleasure  and  leisure. 
The  liquor  was  under  strict  regulation,  being  served  out 
either  by  Donald  himself,  his  lieutenant,  or  the  strapping 
Highland  girl  aforesaid,  who  w^as  the  only  female  that 
appeared.  The  allowance  of  whisky,  however,  would 
have  appeared  prodigal  to  any  but  Highlanders,  who, 
hving  entirely  in  the  open  air,  and  in  a  very  moist  climate, 
can  consume  great  quantities  of  ardent  spirits,  without  the 
usual  baneful  effects  either  upon  the  brain  or  the  constitu- 
tion. 

At  length  the  fluctuating  groups  began  to  swim  before 
the  eyes  of  our  hero  as  they  gradually  closed  ;  nor  did 
he  re-open  them  till  the  morning  sun  was  high  on  the 
lake  without,  though  there  was  but  a  faint  and  glimmer- 
ing twihght  in  the  recesses  of  Uairnh  an  Ri,  or  the  King's 
cavern,  as  the  abode  of  Donald  Bean  Lean  was  proudly 
denominated. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Waverlcy  proceeds  on  his  Journey. 

When  Edward  had  collected  his  scattered  recollec- 
tion, he  wns  surprised  to  observe  the  cavern  totally  de- 
serted. Having  arisen  and  put  his  dress  in  some  order, 
he  looked  more  accurately  around  him,  but  all  was  still 
solitary.  If  it  had  not  been  for  the  decayed  brands  of 
the  fire,  now  sunk  into  grey  ashes,  and  the  remnants  of 
the  festival,  consisting,  of  bones  half  burned  and  half 
gnav/ed,  and  an  empty  keg  or  two,  there  remained  no 
traces  of  Donald  and  his  band.  When  Waverley  sallied 
forth  to  the  entrance  of  the  cave,  he  perceived  that  the 


TTAVERLEY.  125 

point  of  rock,  on  which  remained  the  marks  of  last  night's 
beacon,  was  accessible  by  a  small  path,  either  natural,  or 
roughly  hewn  in  the  rock,  along  the  Uttle  inlet  of  water 
which  ran  a  few  yards  up  into  the  cavern,  where,  as  in  a 
wet-dock,  the  skiff  which  brought  him  there  the  night 
before,  was  still  lying  moored.  When  he  reached  the 
small  projecting  platform  on  which  the  beacon  had  been 
established,  he  would  have  beUeved  his  farther  progress 
by  land  impossible,  only  that  it  was  scarce  probable  but 
what  the  inhabitants  of  the  cavern  had  some  mode  of 
issuing  from  it  otherwise  than  by  the  lake.  Accordingly, 
he  soon  observed  tliree  or  four  shelvmg  steps,  or  ledges 
of  rock,  at  the  very  extremity  of  the  httle  platform  ; 
and  making  use  of  them  as  a  staircase,  he  clambered  by 
their  means  around  the  projecting  shoulder  of  the  crag 
on  which  the  cavern  opened,  and,  descending  whh  some 
difficuhy  on  the  other  side,  he  gained  the  wild  and  pre- 
cipitous shores  of  a  Highland  loch,  about  four  miles  in 
length,  and  a  mile  and  a  half  over,  surrounded  by  heathy 
and  savage  mountains,  on  the  crests  of  which  the  morn- 
ing-mist  was  still  sleeping. 

Looking  back  to  the  place  from  whence  he  came,  he 
could  not  help  admiring  the  address  which  had  adopted 
a  retreat  of  such  seclusion  and  secrecy.  The  rock, 
round  the  shoulder  of  which  he  had  turned  by  a  few  im- 
perceptible notches,  that  barely  afforded  place  for  the 
foot,  seemed,  in  looking  back  upon  it,  a  huge  precipice, 
which  barred  all  farther  passage  by  the  shores  of  the 
lake  in  that  direction.  There  could  be  no  possibility, 
the  breadth  of  the  lake  considered,  of  descrying  the  en- 
trance of  the  narrow  and  low-browed  pave  from  the  oth- 
er side  ;  so  that  unless  the  retreat  had  been  sought  fc! 
with  boats,  or  disclosed  by  treacjiery,  it  rnigl-t  be  a  safe 
and  secret  residence  to  its  garrison  so  long  as  they  were 
supplied  with  provisions.  Having  satisfied  his  curiosity 
in  these  particulars,  Waverley  looked  around  for  Evan 
Dhu  and  his  attendant,  who,  he  rightly  judged,  would 
be  at  no  great  distance,  whatever  might  have  become  of 

11*       VOL.    I. 


^ 


126 


WAVERLET. 


Donald  Bean  Lean  and  his  party,  whose  mode  of  life 
was,  of  course,  liable  to  sudden  migrations  of  abode. 
Accordingly,  at  the  distance  of  about  half  a  mile,  he  be- 
held a  Highlander  (Evan  apparently)  anghng  in  the  lake, 
uith  another  attending  him,  whom,  from  the  weapon 
which  he  shouldered,  he  recognized  for  his  friend  with 
the  battle-axe. 

Much  nearer  to  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  he  heard  the 
notes  of  a  lively  Gaelic  song,  guided  by  which,  in  a  sunny 
recess,  shaded  by  a  glhtering  birch-tree,  and  carpeted 
with  a  bank  of  firm  white  sand,  he  found  the  damsel  of 
the  cavern,  whose  lay  had  already  reached  him,  busy,  to 
the  best  of  her  power,  in  arranging  to  advantage  a  morn- 
ing repast  of  milk,  eggs,  barley  bread,  fresh  butter,  and 
honeycomb.  The  poor  girl  had  made  a  circuit  of  four 
miles  that  morning  in  search  of  the  eggs,  of  the  meal 
which  baked  her  cakes,  and  of  the  other  materials  of  the 
breakfast,  being  all  delicacies  v/hich  she  had  to  beg  or 
borrow  from  distant  cottagers.  The  followers  of  Don- 
ald Bean  Lean  used  little  food  except  the  flesh  of  the 
animals  which  they  drove  away  from  the  Lowlands  ; 
bread  itself  was  a  delicacy  seldom  thought  of,  because 
hard  to  be  obtained,  and  all  the  domestic  accommodations 
of  milk,  poultry,  butter,  &ic.  were  out  of  the  question  in 
this  Scythian  camp.  Yet  it  must  not  be  omitted,  that 
although  Alice  had  occupied  a  part  of  the  morning  in 
providing  those  accommodations  for  her  guest  which  tho 
cavern  did  not  afford,  she  had  secured  time  also  to  arrange 
her  own  person  in  her  best  trim.  Her  finery  was  very 
simple.  A  short  russet-coloured  jacket,  and  a  petticoat, 
of  scanty  longitude,  was  her  whole  dress  ;  but  these 
were  clean,  and  neatly  disposed.  A  piece  of  scarlet 
embroidered  cloth,  called  the  snood,  confined  her  hair, 
which  fell  over  it  in  a  profusion  of  rich  dark  curls.  The 
scarlet  plaid,  Avhich  formed  part  of  her  dress,  was  laid 
aside,  that  it  might  not  impede  her  activity  in  attending 
the  stranger.  I  should  forget  Alice's  proudest  ornament, 
were  I  to  omit  mentioning  a  pair  of  gold  ear-rings,  and  a 
golden  rosary  vvhich  her  father  (for  she  was  the  daughter 


WAVERLEY.  127 

of  Donald  Bean  Lean)   had   brought  from  France,  the 
plunder  probably  of  some  battle  or  storm. 

Her  form,  though  rather  large  for  her  years,  was  ver}' 
well  proportioned,  and  her  demeanour  had  a  natural  and 
rustic  grace,  with  nothing  of  the  sheepishness  of  an  ordi- 
nary peasant.  The  smiles,  displaying  a  row  of  teeth  of 
exquisite  whiteness,  and  the  laughing  eyes,  with  which, 
in  dumb  show,  she  gave  Waverley  that  morning  greeting 
which  she  wanted  Enghsh  words  to  express,  might  have 
been  interpreted  by  a  coxcomb,  or  perhaps  by  a  young 
soldier,  who,  without  being  such,  was  conscious  of  a 
handsome  person,  as  meant  to  convey  more  than  the 
courtesy  of  a  hostess.  Nor  do  I  take  it  upon  me  to  say 
that  the  little  wild  mountaineer  would  have  welcomed 
any  staid  old  gentleman  advanced  in  life,  the  Baron  of 
Bradwardine,  for  example,  with  the  cheerful  pains  which 
she  bestowed  upon  Edward's  accommodation.  She 
seemed  eager  to  place  him  by  the  meal  which  she  had  so 
sedulously  arranged,  and  to  which  she  now  added  a  few 
bunches  of  cranberries,  gathered  in  an  adjacent  morass. 
Having  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  him  seated  at  his 
breakfast,  she  placed  herself  demurely  upon  a  stone  at  a 
few  yards  distance,  and  appeared  to  watch  with  great 
complacency  for  some  opportunity  of  serving  him. 

Evan  and  his  attendant  now  returned  slowly  along  the 
beach,  the  latter  bearing  a  large  salmon-trout,  the  pro- 
duce of  the  morning's  sport,  together  with  the  angling- 
rod,  while  Evan  strolled  forward  with  an  easy,  self-satis- 
fied, and  important  gait  towards  the  spot  where  Waverley 
was  so  agreeably  employed  at  the  breakfast-table.  After 
morning  greetings  had  passed  on  both  sides,  and  Evan, 
looking  at  Waverley,  had  said  something  in  Gaelic  to 
Alice,  which  made  her  laugh,  yet  colour  up  to  her  eyes, 
through  a  complexion  well  embrowned  by  snn  and  wind, 
Evan  intimated  his  commands  that  the  fish  should  be 
prepared  for  breakfast.  A  spark  from  the  lock  of  his 
pistol  produced  a  light,  and  a  few  witliered  fir  branches 
were  quickly  in  flame,  and  as  speedily  reduced  to  hot 
embers,  on  which  the   trout  was  broiled  in  large   slices. 


128  WAVERLEY. 

To  crown  the  repast,  Evan  produced  from  the  pocket  of 
his  short  jerkin,  a  large  scallop  shell,  and  from  under  the 
folds  of  his  plaid,  a  ram's  horn  full  of  whisky.  Of 
this  he  took  a  copious  dram,  observing,  he  had  already 
taken  his  morning  with  Donald  Bean  Lean,  before  his 
departure  ;  he  ofiered  the  same  cordial  to  Alice  and  to 
Edward,  which  they  both  declined.  With  the  bounte- 
ous air  of  a  lord,  Evan  then  proffered  the  scallop  to  Du- 
gald  Mahony,  his  attendant,  who,  without  waiting  to  be 
asked  a  second  time,  drank  it  off  with  great  gusto. 
Evan  then  prepared  to  move  towards  the  boat,  inviting 
Waverley  to  attend  him.  IMeanwhile,  Alice  had  made 
up  in  a  small  basket  what  she  thought  worth  removing, 
and  flinging  her  plaid  around  her,  she  advanced  up  to 
Edward,  and  with  the  utmost  simplicity,  taking  hold  of 
his  hand,  offered  her  cheek  to  his  salute,  dropping  at  the 
same  time,  her  little  courtesy.  Evan,  who  was  esteem- 
ed a  wag  among  the  mountain  fair,  advanced,  as  if  to 
secure  a  similar  favour  ;  but  x\lice,  snatching  up  her 
basket,  escaped  up  the  rocky  bank  as  fleetly  as  a  roe, 
and,  turning  round  and  laughing,  called  something  out  to 
him  in  Gaelic,  which  he  answered  in  the  same  tone  and 
language  ;  then  waving  her  hand  to  Edward,  she  resum- 
ed her  road,  and  w^as  soon  lost  among  the  thickets, 
though  they  continued  for  some  time  to  hear  her  lively 
carol,  as  she  proceeded  gaily  on  her  solitary  journey. 

They  now  again  entered  the  gorge  of  the  cavern,  and 
stepping  into  the  boat,  the  Highlander  pushed  off,  and, 
taking  advantage  of  the  morning  breeze,  hoisted  a  clum- 
sy sort  of  sail,  while  Evan  assumed  the  helm,  directing 
their  course,  as  it  appeared  to  Waverley,  rather  higher 
up  the  lake  than  towards  the  place  of  his  embarkation 
00  the  preceding  ni?;ht.  As  they  glided  along  the  siker 
mirror,  Evan  opened  the  conversation  with  a  panegyrick 
upon  Alice,  who,  he  said,  was  both  canny  and  fendy  ; 
and  was,  1o  the  boot  of  all  that,  the  best  dancer  of  a 
strathspey  in  the  whole  strath.  Edward  assented  to  her 
praises  so  far  as  he  understood  them,  yet  could  not  help 


WAVERLET.  129 

regretting  that  she   was  condemned  to  such  a   perilous 
and  dismal  life. 

"  Oich  !  for  that,"  said  Evan,  "  there  is  nothing  in 
Perthshire  that  she  need  want,  if  she  ask  her  father  to 
fetch  it,  unless  it  be  too  hot  or  too  heavy." 

"  But  to  be  the  daughter  of  a  cattle-stealer, — a  com- 
mon thief  !" 

"  Common  thief  ! — No  such  thing  ;  Donald  Bean 
Lean,  never  lifted  less  than  a  drove  in  his  life." 

"  Do  you  call  him  an  uncommon  thief,  then  ?" 

"  No — he  that  steals  a  cow  from  a  poor  widow,  or  a 
stirk  from  a  cottar,  is  a  thief  ;  he  that  lifts  a  drove  from 
a  Sassenach  laird  is  a  gentleman-drover.  And,  besides, 
to  take  a  tree  from  the  forest,  a  salmon  from  the  river,  a 
deer  from  the  hill,  or  a  cov/  from  a  Lowland  strath,  is 
what  no  Highlander  need  ever  think  shame  upon." 

"  But  what  can  this  end  in,  v\-ere  he  taken  in  such  an 
appropriation  .^" 

"  To  be  sure  he  would  die  for  the  IctWy  as  many  a 
pretty  man  has  done  before  him." 

"  Die  for  the  law  !" 

"  Ay  ;  that  is,  with  the  law,  or  by  the  law  ;  be  strap- 
ped up  on  the  kind  gallows  of  CriefF,  where  his  father 
died,  and  his  goodsire  died,  and  where  T  hope  he'll  hve 
to  die  himsel,  if  he's  not  shot,  or  slashed,  in  a  creagh." 

"  You  hope  such  a  death  for  your  friend,  Evan  .'^" 

"  And  that  do  I  e'en  ;  would  you  have  me  wish  him 
to  die  on  a  bundle  of  wet  straw  in  yon  den  of  his,  like  a 
mangy  tyke  f^^ 

"  But  what  becomes  of  Alice,  then  .'*" 

"  Troth,  if  such  an  accident  were  to  happen,  as  her 
father  would  not  need  her  help  ony  langer,  I  ken  nought 
to  hinder  me  to  marry  her  mysel." 

"  Gallantly  resolved,"  said  Edward  ; — "  but,  in  the 
meanwhile,  Evan,  Avhat  has  your  father-in-law  (that  shall 
be,  if  he  have  the  good  fortune  to  be  hanged)  done  with 
the  Baron's  cattle  ?" 

"  Oich,"  answered  Evan,  "  they  were  all  trudging 
before  your  lad  and  Allan  Kennedy,  before  the  sun  blink- 


130  AVAVERLEY. 

ed  over  Ben-Lawers  this  morning  ;  and  they'll  be  in  the 
pass  of  Bally-Brough  by  this  time,  in  their  way  back  to 
the  parks  of  Tully-Veolan,  all  but  two,  that  were  unhap- 
pily slaughtered  before  I  got  last  night  to  Uaimhan  Ri." 
"  And  where  are  we  going,  Evan,  if  I  may  be  so  bold 
as  to  ask  ?"  said  Waverley. 

"  Where  would  you  be  ganging,  but  to  the  laird's  ain 
house  of  Glennaquoich  f  Ye  would  not  think  to  be  in 
his  country,  without  ganging  to  see  him  f  It  would  be  as 
much  as  a  man's  life's  worth." 

"  And  are  we  far  from  Glennaquoich  f" 
"  But  five  bits   of  miles  ;   and  Vich  Ian  Vohr  will 
meet  us." 

In  about  half  an  hour  they  reached  the  upper  end  of 
the  lake,  where,  after  landing  Waverley,  the  two  High- 
landers drew  the  boat  into  a  little  creek  among  thick 
flags  and  reeds,  where  it  lay  perfectly  concealed.  The 
oars  they  put  in  another  place  of  concealment,  both  for 
the  use  of  Donald  Bean  Lean  probably,  when  his  occa- 
sions should  next  bring  him  to  that  place. 

The  travellers  followed  for  some  time  a  delightful  open- 
ing in  the  hills,  down  which  a  little  brook  found  its  way 
to  the  lake.  When  they  had  pursued  their  walk  a  short 
distance,  Waverley  renewed  his  questions  about  their 
host  of  the  cavern. 

"  Does  he  always  reside  in  that  cave  .^" 
"  Out,  no  !  it's  past  the  skill  of  man  to  tell  where  he's 
to  be  found  at  a'  times  :  there's  not  a  dern  nook,  or  cove, 
or  corri,  in  the  whole  country,  that  he's  not  acquainted 
with." 

"  And  do  others  beside  your  master  shelter  him." 
"  My  master  ? — My  master  is  in  Heaven,"  answered 
Evan,  haughtily  ;  and  then  immediately  resuming  his 
usual  civility  of  manner,  "  but  you  mean  my  chief ;  no, 
he  does  not  shelter  Donald  Bean  Lean,  nor  any  that 
are  like  him  ;  he  only  allows  him  (with  a  smile)  wood 
and  water." 

"  No  great  boon,  I  should  think,  Evan,  when  both 
seem  to  be  very  plenty." 


AVAVERIEY.  131 

"  Ah  !  but  ye  dinna  see  through  it.  When  I  say 
wood  and  water,  I  mean  the  loch  and  the  land  ;  and  I 
fancy  Donald  would  be  put  till't  if  the  laird  were  to  look 
for  him  wi'  three-score  men  in  the  wood  of  Kailychat 
yonder  ;  and  if  our  boats,  with  a  score  or  twa  mair,  were 
to  come  down  the  loch  to  Uaimh  an  Ri,  headed  by  mysel 
or  ony  other  pretty  man." 

"  But  suppose  a  strong  party  came  against  him  from 
the  low  country,  would  not  your  chief  defend  him  f" 

"  Na,  he  would  not  ware  the  spark  of  a  iiint  for  him 
— if  they  came  with  the  law." 

"  And  what  must  Donald  do,  then  ?" 

"  He  behoved  to  rid  this  country  of  himsel,  and  fall 
back,  it  may  be,  over  the  mount  upon    Letter-Scriven." 

"And  if  he  were  pursued  to  that  place  f" 

"  I'se  warrant  he  would  go  to  his  cousin's  at  Rannoch." 

**  Well,  but  if  they  followed  him  to  Rannoch  r" 

"  That,"  quoth  Evan,  "  is  beyond  all  behef  ;  and,  in- 
deed, to  tell  you  the  truth,  there  durst  not  a  Lowlander 
in  all  Scotland  follow  the  fray  a  gun-shot  beyond  Bally- 
Brough,  unless  he  had  the  help  of  the  Sidier  Dhu.^^ 

"  Whom  do  you  call  so  ?" 

"  The  Sidier  Dhu  9  the  black  soldier  ;  that  is  what 
they  called  the  independent  companies  that  were  raised 
to  keep  peace  and  law  in  the  Highlands.  Vich  Ian  Vohr 
commanded  one  of  them  for  five  years,  and  I  was  a  Ser- 
jeant myself,  I  shall  warrant  ye.  They  call  them  Sidier 
Dhu,  because  they  wear  the  tartans,  as  they  call  your  men 
— King   George's   men, — Sidier  Roy,  or  red  soldiers." 

"  Well,  but  when  you  were  in  King  George's  pay, 
Evan,  you  were  surely  King  George's  soldiers  .^" 

"  Troth,  and  you  must  ask  Vich  Ian  Vohr  about  that ; 
for  we  are  for  his  king,  and  care  not  much  which  o'  them 
it  is.  At  ony  rate,  nobody  can  say  we  are  King  George's 
men  now,  when  we  have  not  seen  his  pay  this  twelve- 
month." 

This  last  argument  admitted  of  no  reply,  nor  did  Ed- 
ward attempt  any  :  he  rather   chose  to  bring  back  the 


132  WAVERLEY. 

discourse  to  Donald  Bean  Lean.  "  Does  Donald  con- 
fine himself  to  cattle,  or  does  he  lift,  as  you  call  it,  any 
thing  else  that  comes  in  his  way  ?" 

"  Troth  he's  nae  nice  body,  and  he'll  just  tak  ony 
thing,  but  most  readily  cattle,  horse,  or  live  Christians  ! 
for  sheep  are  slow  of  travel,  and  inside  plenishing  is  cum- 
brous to  carry,  and  not  easy  to  put  away  for  siller  in  this 
country." 

"  But  does  he  carry  off  men  and  women  f" 

"  Out  aye.  Did  not  ye  hear  him  speak  o'  the  Perth 
Baillie  :  It  cost  that  body  five  hundred  marks  ere  he  got 
to  the  south  o'  Bally-Brough.  And  ance  Donald  play- 
ed a  pretty  sport.  There  was  to  be  a  blythe  bridal  be- 
tween the  lady  Cramfeezer,  in  the  howe  o'  the  Mearns, 
(she  was  the  auld  laird's  widow,  and  no  sae  young  as  she 
had  been  hersel,)  and  young  Gilliewhackit,  who  had 
spent  his  heirship  and  moveables,  like  a  gentleman,  at 
cock-matches,  bull-baitings,  horse-races,  and  the  like. 
Now  Donald  Bean  Lean,  being  aware  that  the  bride- 
groom was  in  request,  and  wanting  to  cleik  the  cunzie, 
(that  is,  to  hook  the  siller,)  he  cannily  carried  off  Gillie- 
whackit ae  night  when  he  was  riding  dovering  hame, 
(wi'  the  malt  rather  abune  the  meal,)  and  with  the  help 
of  his  gillies  he  gat  liim  into  the  hills  with  the  speed  of 
light,  and  the  first  place  he  wakened  in  was  the  cove  of 
Uaimh  an  Ri.  So  there  was  old  to  do  about  ransoming 
the  bridegroom  ;  for  Donald  would  not  lower  a  farthing 
of  a  thousand  pounds" 

"  The  devil  !" 

"  Funds  Scottish,  ye  shall  understand.  And  the  lady 
had  not  the  siller  if  she  had  pawned  her  gown  ;  and 
they  applied  to  the  governor  o'  Stirling-castle,  and  to  the 
major  o'  the  Black  Watch  ;  and  the  governor  said,  it  was 
ower  far  to  the  northward,  and  out  of  his  district  ;  and 
the  major  said,  his  men  were  gane  hame  to  the  shearing, 
and  he  would  not  call  them  out  before  the  victual  was 
got  in  for  all  the  Cramfeezers  in  Christendom,  let  alane 
the  Mearns,  for  that  it  would  prejudice  the  country.  And 
in  the  mean  while  ye'Il  no  hinder  Gilliewhackit  to  take 


WAVERLEY.  133 

the  small-pox.  There  was  not  the  doctor  in  Perth  or 
Stirling  would  look  near  the  poor  lad,  and  I  cannot  blame 
them  ;  for  Donald  had  been  misguggled  by  ane  of  these 
doctors  about  Paris,  and  he  swore  he  would  fling  tJie 
first  into  the  loch  that  he  catched  beyond  the  Pass. 
However,  some  cailhachs  (that  is,  old  women.)  that  were 
about  Donald's  hand,  nursed  Gilliewhackit  sae  weel,  that 
between  the  free  open  air  in  the  cove  and  the  fresh  whey, 
deil  an'  he  did  not  recover  may  be  as  weel  as  if  he  had 
been  closed  in  a  glazed  chamber  and  a  bed  with  curtains, 
and  fed  with  red  wine  and  white  meat.  And  Donald  was 
sae  vexed  about  it,  that  when  he  was  stout  and  weel,  he 
even  sent  him  free  hame,  and  said  he  would  be  pleased 
with  ony  thing  they  would  like  to  gie  him  for  the  plague 
and  trouble  which  he  had  about  Gilhewhackit  to  an  un- 
kenn'd  degree.  And  I  cannot  tell  you  precisely  how 
they  sorted  ;  but  they  agreed  sae  right  that  Donald  was 
invited  to  dance  at  the  wedding  in  his  Highland  trews, 
and  they  said  that  there  was  never  sae  meikle  siller  clink- 
ed in  his  purse  neither  before  or  since.  And  to  the  boot 
of  all  that,  Gilhewhackit  said,  that,  be  the  evidence  what 
it  liked,  if  he  had  the  luck  to  be  on  Donald's  inquest,  he 
would  bring  him  in  guilty  of  nothing  whatever,  unless  it 
were  wilful  arson,  or  murder  under  trust." 

With  such  bald  and  disjointed  chat  Evan  went  on  illus- 
trating the  existing  state  of  the  Highlands,  more  perhaps 
to  the  amusement  of  Waverley  than  that  of  our  readers. 
At  length,  after  having  marched  over  bank  and  brae, 
moss  and  heather,  Edward,  though  not  unacquainted  with 
the  Scottish  hberality  in  computing  distance,  began  to 
think  that  Evan's  five  miles  were  nearly  doubled.  His 
observation  on  the  large  measure  which  the  Scottish  al- 
lowed of  their  land,  in  comparison  to  the  computation  of 
their  money,  was  readily  answered  by  Evan,  with  the 
old  jest,  "  The  de'il  take  them  wha  have  the  lea^t  pint 
stoup." 

And  now  the  report  of  a  gun  was  heard,  and  a  sports- 
man was  seen,  with  his  dogs  and  attendant,  at  the  upper 

12       VOL.    I. 


134 


MAVEKLEY. 


end   of  the   glen.      "  Shough,"  said  Dugald  Mahony, 
"  tat's  ta  Chief." 

"  It  is  not,"  said  Evan,  imperiously.  "  Do  you  think 
he  would  come  to  meet  a  Sassenach  duinhe-wassel, 
in  such  a  way  as  that  f " 

But  as  they  approached  a  little  nearer,  he  said,  with 
an  appearance  of  mortification,  "  And  it  is  even  he  sure 
enough,  and  he  has  not  his  tail  on  after  all : — there  is  no 
living  creature  with  him  but  Galium  Beg." 

In  fact,  Fergus  Mac-Ivor,  of  whom  a  Frenchman  might 
have  said,  as  truly  as  of  any  man  in  the  Highlands, 
'  Qu''il  connoit  Men  ses  gens,^  had  no  idea  of  raising  him- 
self in  the  eyes  of  an  English  young  man  of  fortune,  by 
appearing  with  a  retinue  of  idle  Highlanders  dispropor- 
tioned  to  the  occasion.  He  was  w^ell  aware  that  such  an 
unnecessary  attendance  would  seem  to  Edward  rather 
ludicrous  than  respectable  ;  and  while  few  men  were 
more  attached  to  ideas  of  chieftainship  and  feudal  power, 
he  was,  for  that  very  reason,  cautious  of  exhibiting  ex- 
ternal marks  of  dignity,  unless  at  the  time  and  in  the 
manner  when  they  were  most  hkely  to  produce  an  im- 
posing effect.  Therefore,  although,  had  he  been  to  re- 
ceive a  brother  chieftain,  he  would  probably  have  been 
attended  by  all  that  retinue  which  Evan  had  described 
w^ith  so  much  unction,  he  judged  it  more  respectable  to 
advance  to  meet  Waverley  with  a  single  attendant,  a  very 
handsome  Highland  boy,  who  carried  his  master's  shoot- 
ing-pouch and  his  broad-sword,  without  which  he  seldom 
went  abroad. 

When  Fergus  and  Waverley  met,  the  latter  was  struck 
with  the  peculiar  grace  and  dignity  of  the  chieftain's 
figure.  Above  the  middle  size,  and  finely  proportioned, 
the  Highland  dress,  which  he  wore  in  its  simplest  mode, 
set  off  his  person  to  great  advantage.  He  wore  the  trews, 
or  close  trowsers,  made  of  tartan,  checqued  scarlet  and 
white  ;  in  other  particulars,  his  dress  strictly  resembled 
Evan'^,  excepting  that  he  had  no  weapon  save  a  dirk, 
very  richly  mounted  with  silver.  His  page,  as  we  have 
said,  carried  his  claymore  ;  and  the  fowling-piece,  which 


WAYERLEY. 


135 


he  held  in  his  hand,  seemed  only  designed  for  sport. 
He  had  shot  in  the  course  of  his  walk  some  young  wild- 
ducks,  as,  though  close-time  was  then  unknown,  the  broods 
of  grouse  were  yet  too  young  for  the  sportsman.  His 
countenance  was  decidedly  Scottish,  with  all  the  pecu- 
Harities  of  the  northern  physiognomy,  but  had  yet  so 
little  of  its  harshness  and  exaggeration,  that  it  would  have 
been  pronounced  in  any  country  extremely  handsome. 
The  martial  air  of  the  bonnet,  with  a  single  eagle's  feather 
as  a  distinction,  added  much  to  the  manly  appearance  of 
his  head,  which  was  besides  ornamented  with  a  far  more 
natural  and  graceful  cluster  of  close  black  curls  than 
ever  were  exposed  to  sale  in  Bond-Street. 

An  air  of  openness  and  affability  increased  the  favour- 
able impression  derived  from  this  handsome  and  dignifi- 
ed exterior.  Yet  a  skilful  physiognomist  would  have 
been  less  satisfied  with  the  countenance  on  the  second 
than  on  the  first  view.  The  eye-brow  and  upper  lip 
bespoke  something  of  the  habit  of  peremptory  command 
and  decisive  superiority.  Even  his  courtesy,  though 
open,  frank,  and  unconstrained,  seemed  to  indicate  a 
sense  of  personal  importance  ;  and  upon  any  check  or 
accidental  excitation,  a  sudden,  though  transient  lour  of 
the  eye,  showed  a  hasty,  haughty,  and  vindictive  temper, 
not  less  to  be  dreaded  because  it  seemed  much  under 
its  owner's  command.  In  short,  the  countenance  of 
the  chieftain  resembled  a  smiling  summer's  day,  in  which, 
notwithstanding,  we  are  made  sensible  by  certain,  though 
shght  signs,  that  it  may  thunder  and  lighten  before  the 
close  of  evening. 

It  was  not,  however,  upon  the  first  meeting  that  Ed- 
ward had  an  opportunity  of  making  these  less  favourable 
remarks.  The  Chief  received  him  as  a  friend  of  the 
Baron  of  Bradwardine,  with  the  utmost  expression  of 
kindness  and  obligation  for  the  visit  ;  upbraided  him 
gently  with  choosing  so  rude  an  abode  as  he  had  done  the 
night  before  ;  and  entered  into  a  lively  conversation  with 
him  about  Donald  Bean's  housekeeping,  but  w^ithout  the 
least  hint  as  to  his  predatory  habits,  or  the  immediate 


136 


-NVAVERLEY. 


occasion  of  Waverley's  visit,  a  topic  which,  as  the  Chief 
did  not  introduce  it,  our  hero  also  avoided.  While  they 
walked  merrily  on  towards  the  house  of  Glennaquoich, 
Evan,  who  now  fell  respectfully  into  the  rear,  followed 
v/ith  Galium  Beg  and  Dugald  Mahony. 

We  will  take  the  opportunity  to  introduce  the  reader 
to  some  particulars  of  Fergus  Mac-Ivor's  character  and 
history,  wdiich  were  not  completely  known  to  Waverley 
till  after  a  connection,  winch,  though  arising  from  a  cir- 
cumstance so  casual,  had  for  a  length  of  time  the  deep- 
est influence  upon  his  character,  actions,  and  prospects. 
But  this  being  an  important  subject,  must  form  the  com- 
mencement of  a  new  chapter. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

The  Chief  and  his  Mansion. 

The  ingenious  licentiate  Francisca  de  Ubeda,  when 
h?  commenced  his  history  of  La  Picara  Justina  Diez, 
— which,  by  the  way,  is  one  of  the  most  rare  books  of 
Sp  uiisb  literature, — complained  of  his  pen  having  caught 
^ip  a  hair,  and  forthwith  begins,  with  more  eloquence 
tiian  conmion  sense,  an  affectionate  expostulation  with 
that  useful  implement,  upbraiding  it  with  being  the  quill 
of  a  goose, — a  bird  inconstant  by  nature,  as  frequenting 
t'iC  three  elements  of  water,  earth,  and  air  indifferently, 
:uid  being,  of  course,  "to  one  thing  constant  never." 
Now  I  protest  to  thee,  gentle  reader,  that  I  entirely 
dissent  from  Francisco  de  Ubeda  in  this  matter,  and 
]!oid  it  the  most  useful  quality  of  my  pen,  that  it  can 
speedily  change  from  grave  to  gay,  and  from  descrip- 
tion and  dialogue  to  narrative  and  character.  So  that 
if  my  quill  display  no  other  properties  of  its  mother- 
goose  than  her  mulabihty,  truly  I  shall  be  well  pleased  ; 


WAVERLEY.  137 

and  I  conceive  that  you,  my  worthy  friend,  will  have  no 
occasion  for  discontent.  From  the  jargon,  therefore, 
of  the  Highland  gilhes,  I  pass  to  the  character  of  their 
chief.  It  is  an  important  examination,  and  therefore, 
like  Dogberry,  we  must  spare  no  wisdom. 

The  ancestor  of  Fergus  Mac-Ivor,  about  three  cen- 
turies before,  had  set  up  a  claim  to  be  recognized  as 
chieftain  of  the  numerous  and  powerful  clan  to  which 
he  belonged,  the  name  of  v/hich  it  is  unnecessary  to 
mention.  Being  defeated  by  an  opponent  who  had  more 
justice,  or  at  least  more  force,  on  his  side,  he  moved 
southwards,  with  those  who  adhered  to  him,  in  quest  of 
new  settlements,  like  a  second  jEneas.  The  state  of 
the  Perthshire  Highlands  favoured  his  purpose.  A  great 
Baron  in  that  country  had  lately  become  traitor  to  tl^.e 
crown  ;  Jan,  which  was  the  name  of  our  adventurer, 
united  himself  with  those  who  were  commissioned  by 
the  King  to  chastise  him,  and  did  such  good  service 
that  he  obtained  a  grant  of  the  property,  upon  which 
lie  and  his  posterity  afterwards  resided.  He  followed 
the  King  also  in  war  to  the  fertile  regions  of  England, 
where  he  employed  his  leisure  hours  so  actively  m 
raising  subsidies  among  the  boors  of  Northumberland 
and  Durham,  that  upon  his  return  he  was  enabled  to 
erect  a  stone  tower,  or  fortalice,  so  much  admired  b}' 
his  dependants  and  neighbours,  that  he,  who  had  hith- 
erto been  called  Ian  Mac-Ivor,  or  John  the  son  of  Ivor, 
was  thereafter  distinguished,  both  in  song  and  genealo- 
gy, by  the  high  title  of  Ian  nan  Chaistel,  or  John  of  the 
Tower.  The  descendants  of  this  worthy  were  so  proud 
of  him,  that  the  reigning  chief  always  bore  the  patro- 
nyrnic  title  of  Vich  Ian  Vohr,  i.  e.  the  son  of  John  the 
Great ;  the  clan  at  large,  to  distinguish  them  from  that 
from  which  they  had  seceded,  weie  denoimnd.icd  Sliochd 
nan  Ivor,  the  race  of  Ivor. 

The  father  of  Fergus,  the  tenth  in  direct  descent  from 
John  of  tlie  Tower,  engaged  heart  and  hand  in  the  in- 
surrection of  1715,  and  was  forced  to   fiy  to   France, 

12*       VOL.    I. 


138  WAVERLEY. 

after  the  attempt  of  that  year  in  favour  of  the  Stuarts 
had  proved  unsuccessful.  More  fortunate  than  other 
fugitives,  he  obtained  employment  in  the  French  service, 
and  married  a  lady  of  rank  in  that  kingdom,  by  whom 
he  had  two  children,  Fergus  and  his  sister  Flora.  The 
Scottish  estate  had  been  forfeited  and  exposed  to  sale, 
but  was  repurchased  for  a  small  price  in  the  name  of 
the  young  proprietor,  who  in  consequence  came  to  re- 
side upon  his  native  domains.  It  was  soon  perceived 
that  he  possessed  a  character  of  uncommon  acuteness, 
fire,  and  ambition,  which,  as  he  became  acquainted  with 
the  state  of  the  country,  gradually  assumed  a  mixed  and 
peculiar  tone,  that  could  only  have  been  acquired  Sixty 
Years  Since. 

Had  Fergus  Mac-Ivor  lived  Sixty  Years  sooner  than 
he  did,  he  would,  in  all  probability,  have  wanted  the 
polished  manner  and  knowledge  of  the  world  which  he 
now  possessed  ;  and  had  he  lived  Sixty  Years  later,  his 
ambition  and  love  of  rule  would  have  lacked  the  fuel 
which  his  situation  now  afforded.  He  was  indeed,  with- 
in his  little  circle,  as  perfect  a  politician  as  Castruccio 
Castrucani  himself.  He  applied  himself  with  great 
earnestness  to  appease  all  the  feuds  and  dissensions 
which  frequently  arose  among  other  clans  in  his  neigh- 
bourhood, so  that  he  became  a  frequent  umpire  in  their 
quarrels.  His  own  patriarchal  power  he  strengthened 
at  every  expense  which  his  fortune  would  permit,  and 
indeed  stretched  his  means  to  the  uttermost  to  maintain 
the  rude  and  plentiful  hospitality,  which  was  the  most 
valued  attribute  of  a  chieftain.  For  the  same  reason, 
he  crowded  his  estate  with  a  tenantry,  hardy  indeed,  and 
fit  for  the  purposes  of  war,  but  greatly  outnumbering 
what  the  soil  v;as  calculated  to  maintain.  These  con- 
sisted chiefly  of  his  own  clan,  not  one  of  whom  he  suf- 
fered to  quit  his  lands  if  he  could  possibly  prevent  it. 
But  he  maintained,  besides,  many  adventurers  from  the 
mother  sept,  who  deserted  a  less  warlike,  though  more 
wealthy  chief,  to  do  homage  to  Fergus  Mac-Ivor.  Other 
individuals,  too,  who  had  not  even  that  apology,  were 


WAVEKtET.  139 

nevertheless  received  into  his  allegiance,  which  indeed 
was  refused  to  none  who  were,  like  Poins,  proper  men 
of  their  hands,  and  were  willing  to  assume  the  name  of 
Mac-Ivor. 

He  was  enabled  to  discipline  these  forces  from  having 
obtained  command  of  one  of  the  independent  companies, 
raised  by  government  to  preserve  the  peace  of  the 
Highlands.  While  in  this  capacity  he  acted  with  vigour 
and  spirit,  and  preserved  great  order  in  the  country  un- 
der his  charge.  He  caused  his  vassals  to  enter  by  ro- 
tation in  his  company,  and  serve  for  a  c^rtain  space  of 
time,  which  gave  them  all  in  turn  a  general  notion  of 
mihtary  disciphne.  In  his  campaigns  against  the  bandit- 
ti, it  was  observed  that  he  assumed  and  exercised  to 
the  utmost  the  discretionary  power,  which,  while  the 
law  had  no  free  course  in  the  Highlands,  was  conceived 
to  belong  to  the  military  parties  who  were  called  in  to 
support  it.  He  acted,  for  example,  with  great  and  sus- 
picious lenity  to  those  freebooters  who  made  restitution 
on  his  summons,  and  offered  personal  submission  to  him- 
self, while  he  rigorously  pursued,  apprehended,  and 
sacrificed  to  justice,  .all  such  interlopers  as  dared  to  de- 
spise his  admonitions  or  commands.  On  the  other  hand, 
if  any  officers  of  justice,  military  parties,  or  others,  pre- 
sumed to  pursue  thieves  or  marauders  through  his  ter- 
ritories, and  without  applying  for  his  consent  and  concur- 
rence, nothing  was  more  certain  than  that  they  would 
meet  with  some  notable  foil  or  defeat ;  upon  which  oc- 
casions Fergus  Mac-Ivor  was  the  first  to  condole  with 
them,  and,  after  gently  blaming  their  rashness,  never 
failed  deeply  to  lament  the  lawless  state  of  the  country. 
These  lamentations  did  not  exclude  suspicion,  and  mat- 
ters were  so  represented  to  government,  that  our  chief- 
tain was  deprived  of  his  military  command. 

Whatever  he  felt  upon  this  occasion,  he  had  the  art  of 
entirely  suppressing  every  appearance  of  discontent ; 
but  in  a  short  time  the  neighbouring  country  began  to 
feel  bad  effects  from  his  dis2:race.  Donald  Bean  Lean 
and  others  of  his  class,  whose  depredations  had  hitherto 


140  WAVERLET. 

been  confined  to  other  districts,  appeared  from  thence- 
forward to  have  made  a  settlement  on  this  devoted  bor- 
der ;  and  their  ravages  were  carried  on  with  httle  oppo- 
sition, as  the  Lowland  gentry  were  chiefly  Jacobites,  and 
disarmed.  This  forced  many  of  the  inhabitants  into 
contracts  of  black-mail  with  Fergus  Mac-Ivor,  which  not 
only  established  him  their  protector,  and  gave  him  great 
weight  in  all  their  consultations,  but  moreover  supplied 
funds  for  ihe  waste  of  his  feudal  hospitality,  which  the 
discontinuance  of  his  pay  m.ight  have  otherwise  essen- 
tially diminished. 

In  following  this  course  of  conduct,  Fergus  had  a 
further  object  than  merely  being  the  great  mtm  of  his 
neighbourhood,  and  ruling  despotically  over  a  small  clan. 
From  his  infancy  upward,  he  had  devoted  himself  to  the 
cause  of  the  exiled  family,  and  had  persuaded  himself, 
not  only  that  their  restoration  to  the  crown  of  Britain 
would  be  speedy,  but  that  those  who- assisted  them  would 
be  raised  to  honour  and  rank.  It  was  with  this  view 
that  he  laboured  to  reconcile  the  Highlanders  among 
themselves,  and  augmented  his  own  force  to  the  utmost, 
to  be  prepared  for  the  first  favourable  opportunity  of 
rising.  With  this  purpose  also  he  conciliated  the  fa- 
vour of  such  Lowland  gentlemen  in  the  vicinity  as  were 
friends  to  the  good  cause  ;  and  for  the  same  reason, 
having  incautiously  quarrelled  with  Mr.  Bradwardine, 
who,  notwithstanding  his  pecuharities,  was  much  respect- 
ed in  the  country,  he  took  advantage  of  the  foray  of 
Donald  Bean  Lean  to  solder  up  the  dispute  in  the  man- 
ner we  have  mentioned.  Some  indeed  surmised  th-at 
he  caused  the  enterprize  to  be  suggested  to  Donald,  on 
jjurpose  to  pave  the  way  to  a  reconciliation,  which,  sup- 
j)osing  that  to  be  the  case,  cost  the  Laird  of  Bradwar- 
dine two  good  milch  cows.  This  zeal  in  their  behalf 
the. house  of  Stuart  repaid  with  a  considerable  sliare  of 
their  confidence,  an  occasional  supply  of  louis  d'ors, 
abundance  of  fair  words,  and  a  parcinnent  with  a  huge 
vv'axen  seal  appended,  purporting  to  be  an  earl's  patent, 
granted  by  no  less  a  person  than  James  the  Third  King 


WAVERLEY.  141 

of  England,  and  Eighth  King  of  Scotland,  to  his  right 
feal,  trusty,  and  well-beloved  Fergus  Mac-Ivor  of  Glen- 
naquoich,  in  the  county  of  Perth,  and  kingdom  of 
Scotland. 

With  this  future  coronet  glittering  before  his  eyes,  Fer- 
gus plunged  deeply  into  the  correspondence  and  plots  of 
that  unhappy  period  ;  and,  hke  all  such  active  agents, 
easily  reconciled  his  conscience  to  going  certain  lengths 
in  the  service  of  his  party,  from  which  honour  and  pride 
would  have  deterred  him,  had  his  sole  object  been  the 
direct  advancement  of  his  own  personal  interest.  With 
this  insight  into  a  bold,  ambitious,  and  ardent,  yet  artful 
and  politic  character,  we  resume  the  broken  thread  of 
our  narrative. 

The  Chief  and  his  guest  had  by  this  time  reached  the 
house  of  Glennaquoich,  which  consisted  of  Ian  nan 
Chaistel's  mansion,  a  high  rude-looking  square  tower, 
with  the  addition  of  a  lofted  house,  that  is  a  building  of 
two  stories,  constructed  by  Fergus's  grandfather  when 
he  returned  from  that  memorable  expedition,  well  re- 
membered by  the  western  shires,  under  the  name  of  the 
Highland  Host.  Upon  occasion  of  this  crusade  against 
the  Ayrshire  whigs  and  covenanters,  the  Vicli  Ian  Vohr 
of  the  time  had  probably  been  as  successful  as  his  pre- 
decessor was  in  harrying  Northumberland,  and  therefore 
left  to  his  posterity  a  rival  edifice,  as  a  monument  of  his 
magnificence. 

Aroimd  the  house,  which  stood  on  an  eminence  in  the 
midst  of  a  narrow  Highland  valley,  there  appeared  none 
of  that  attention  to  convenience,  far  less  to  ornament 
and  decoration,  which  usually  surrounds  a  gentleman's 
habitation.  An  inclosure  or  two,  divided  by  dry  stone 
walls,  w^ere  the  only  part  of  the  domain  that  was  fenced  ; 
as  to  the  rest,  the  narrow  slips  of  level  ground  which 
lay  by  the  side  of  the  brook,  exhibited  a  scanty  crop  of 
barley,  liable  to  constant  depredations  from  the  herds  of 
wild  ponies  and  black  cattle  that  grazed  upon  the  ad- 
jacent hills.  These  ever  and  anon  made  an  incursion 
upon    the  arable  ground,   which    w^as  repelled   by   the 


142  VAVERLEY. 

loud,  uncouth,  and  dissonant  shouts  of  half  a  dozen 
Highland  swains,  all  running  as  if  they  had  been  mad, 
and  every  one  hallooing  a  half-starved  dog  to  the  rescue 
of  the  forage.  At  a  little  distance  up  the  glen  was  a 
small  and  stunted  wood  of  birch  ;  the  hills  were  high 
and  heathy,  but  without  any  variety  of  surface  ;  so  that 
the  whole  view  was  wild  and  desolate,  rather  than  grand 
and  solitary.  Yet  such  as  it  was,  no  genuine  descendant 
of  Ian  nan  Chaistel  would  have  changed  the  domain  for 
Stow  or  Blenheim. 

There  was  a  sight,  however,  before  the  gate,  which 
perhaps  would  have  afforded  the  first  owner  of  Blen- 
heim more  pleasure  than  the  finest  view  in  the  domain 
assigned  to  him  by  the  gratitude  of  his  country.  This 
consisted  of  about  a  hundred  Higlanders,  in  complete 
dress  and  arms ;  at  sight  of  whom  the  chieftain  apolo- 
gized to  Waverley  in  a  sort  of  negligent  manner.  "  He 
had  forgot,"  he  said,  "  that  he  had  ordered  a  few  of 
his  clan  out,  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  that  they  were 
in  a  fit  condition  to  protect  the  country,  and  prevent 
such  accidents  as,  he  was  sorry  to  learn,  had  befallen 
the  Baron  of  Bradwardine.  Before  they  were  dismis- 
sed, perhaps  Captain  Waverley  might  choose  to  see  them 
go  through  a  part  of  their  exercise." 

Edward  assented,  and  the  men  executed  with  agility 
and  precision  some  of  the  ordinary  miUtary  movements. 
They  then  practised  individually  at  a  mark,  and  showed 
extraordinary  dexterity  in  the  management  of  the  pistol 
and  firelock.  They  took  aim  standing,  sitting,  leaning, 
or  lying  prostrate,  as  they  were  commanded,  and  al- 
ways with  effect  upon  the  target.  Next  they  paired  off 
for  the  broad-sword  exercise  5  and  having  manifested 
their  individual  skill  and  dexterity,  united  in  two  bodies, 
and  exhibited  a  sort  of  mock  encounter,  in  which  the 
charge,  the  rally,  the  flight,  the  pursuit,  and  all  the 
current  of  a  heady  fight,  were  exhibited  to  the  sound  of 
the  great  war  bagpipe. 

On  a  signal  made  by  the  Chief,  the  skirmish  was 
ended.     Matches  were  then  made  for    running,  wrest- 


WAVERLEY.  Mo 

ling,  leaping,  pitching  the  bar,  and  other  sports,  in  which 
this  feudal  militia  displayed  incredible  swiftness,  strength, 
and  agility ;  and  accomplished  the  purpose  which  their 
chieftain  had  at  heart,  by  impressing  on  Waverley  no 
light  sense  of  their  merit  as  soldiers,  and  of  the  power 
of  him  who  commanded  them  by  his  nod. 

"  And  what  number  of  such  gallant  fellows  have  the 
happiness  to  call  you  leader  ?"  asked  Waverley. 

"  In  a  good  cause,  and  under  a  chieftain  whom  they 
loved,  the  race  of  Ivor  have  seldom  taken  the  field  un- 
der five  hundred  claymores.  But  you  are  aware,  Cap- 
tain Waverley,  that  the  disarming  act,  passed  about 
twenty  years  ago,  prevents  their  being  in  the  complete 
state  of  preparation,  as  in  former  times  ;  and  I  keep  no 
more  of  my  clan  under  arms  than  may  defend  my  own 
or  my  friends'  property,  when  the  country  is  troubled 
with  such  men  as  your  last  night's  landlord  ;  and  gov- 
ernment, which  has  removed  other  m.eans  of  defence, 
must  connive  at  our  protecting  ourselves. 

"  But  with  your  force  you  might  soon  destroy,  or  put 
down  such  gangs  as  that  of  Donald  Bean  Lean." 

"  Yes,  doubtless  ;  and  my  reward  would  be  a  sum- 
mons to  deliver  up  to  General  Blakeney,  at  Stirling, 
the  few  broad-swords  they  have  left  us  :  there  were  httle 
pohcy  in  that,  methinks. — But  come.  Captain,  the  sound 
of  the  pipes  informs  me  that  dinner  is  prepared — Let 
me  have  the  honour  to   show  you   into   my  rude  man- 


144  WAVERLEY. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

A  Highland  Feast. 

Ere  Waverley  entered  the  banquetting-hall,  he  was 
offered  the  patriarchal  refreshment  of  a  bath  for  the 
feet,  which  the  sultry  weather,  and  the  morasses  he  had 
traversed,  rendered  highly  acceptable.  He  was  not  in- 
deed so  luxuriously  attended  upon  this  occasion,  as  the 
heroic  travellers  in  the  Odyssey  ;  the  task  of  ablution 
and  abstersion  being  performed,  not  by  a  beautiful  dam- 
sel, trained 

To  chafe  the  limbs  and  pour  the  fragrant  oil, 

but  by  a  smoke-dried  skinny  old  Highland  woman,  who 
did  not  seem  to  think  herself  much  honoured  by  the 
duty  imposed  upon  her,  but  muttered  between  her  teeth, 
"Our  fathers'  herds  did  not  feed  so  near  together,  that 
I  should  do  you  this  service."  A  small  donation,  how- 
ever, amply  reconciled  this  ancient  handmaiden  to  the 
supposed  degradation ;  and,  as  Edw^ard  proceeded  to 
the  hall,  she  gave  him  her  blessing,  in  the  Gaelic  prov- 
erb, '*  May  the  open  hand  be  filled  the  fullest." 

The  hall,  in  which  the  feast  was  prepared,  occupied 
all  the  first  story  of  Ian  nan  Chaistel's  original  erection, 
and  a  huge  oaken  table  extended  through  its  whole 
length.  The  apparatus  for  dinner  was  simple,  even  to 
rudeness,  and  the  company  numerous,  even  to  crowding. 
At  the  head  of  the  table  was  the  Chief  himself,  with  Ed- 
ward, and  two  or  three  Highland  visiters  of  neighbour- 
ing clans  ;  the  elders  of  his  own  tribe,  wadsetters  and 
tacksmen,  as  they  were  called,  who  occupied  portions 
of  his  estate  as  mortgagers  or  lessees,  sat  next  in  rank  ; 
beneath  them,  their  sons  and  nephews,  and  foster- 
brethren  ;    then  the  officers  of  the  Chief's  household, 


WAVE  RLE  T.  145 

according  to  their  order ;  and,  lowest  of  all,  the  tenants 
vvho  actually  cultivated  the  ground.  Even  beyond  this 
long  perspective,  Edward  might  see  upon  the  green,  to 
which  a  huge  pair  of  folding  doors  opened,  a  multitude 
of  Highlanders  of  a  yet  inferior  description,  who,  nev- 
ertheless, were  considered  as  guests,  and  had  their 
share  both  of  the  countenance  of  the  entertainer,  and  of 
the  cheer  of  the  day.  In  the  distance,  and  fluctuating 
round  this  extreme  verge  of  the  banquet,  was  a  change- 
ful group  of  women,  ragged  boys  and  girls,  beggars, 
young  and  old,  large  greyhounds,  and  terriers,  and 
pointers,  and  curs  of  low  degree  ;  all  of  whom  took 
some  interest,  more  or  less  immediate,  in  the  main  action 
of  the  piece. 

This  hospitahty,  apparently  unbounded,  had  yet  its 
line  of  economy.  Some  pains  had  been  bestowed  in 
dressing  the  dishes  of  fish,  game,  k,c.,  which  were  at 
the  upper  end  of  the  table,  and  immediately  under  the 
eye  of  the  English  stranger.  Lower  down  stood  im- 
mense clumsy  joints  of  mutton  and  beef,  which,  but  for 
the  absence  of  pork,  abhorred  in  the  Highlands,  resem- 
bled the  rude  festivity  of  the  banquet  of  Penelope's 
suitors.  But  the  central  dish  was  a  yearling  lamb, 
called  "  a  hog  in  harst,"  roasted  whole.  It  was  set 
upon  its  legs,  with  a  bunch  of  parsley  in  its  mouth,  and 
was  probably  exhibited  in  that  form  to  gratify  the  pride 
of  the  cook,  who  piqued  himself  more  on  the  plenty 
than  the  elegance  of  his  master's  table.  The  sides  of 
this  poor  animal  were  fiercely  attacked  by  the  clans- 
men, some  with  dirks,  others  with  their  knives  which 
were  usually  in  the  same  sheath  with  the  dagger,  so 
that  it  was  soon  rendered  a  mangled  and  rueful  spectacle. 
Lower  down  still,  the  victuals  seemed  of  yet  coarser 
quality,  though  sufficiently  abundant.  Broth,  onions, 
cheese,  and  the  fragments  of  the  feast,  regaled  the  sons 
of  Ivor,  w^ho  feasted  in  the  open  air. 

The  liquor  was  supplied  in  the  same  proportion,  and 
under  similar  regulations.     Excellent  claret  and    cham- 

13       VOL.    I. 


146  WAVE  RLE  Y. 

pagne  were  liberally  distributed  among  the  Chief's  ini- 
inediate  neighbours  ;  whisky,  plain  or  diluted,  and  strong- 
beer,  refreshed  those  who  sate  near  the  lower  end.  Nor 
did  this  inequality  of  distribution  appear  to  give  the 
least  offence.  Every  one  present  understood  that  his 
taste  was  to  be  formed  according  to  the  rank  which  he 
held  at  table;  and  consequently  the  tacksmen  and  their 
dependants  always  professed  the  wine  was  too  cold  for 
their  stomachs,  and  called,  apparently  out  of  choice,  for 
the  liquor  which  was  assigned  to  them  from  economy. 
The  bagpipers,  three  in  number,  screamed,  during  the 
whole  time  of  dinner,  a  tremendous  war-tune ;  and  the 
echoing  of  the  vaulted  roof,  and  clang  of  the  Celtic 
tongue,  produced  such  a  Babel  of  noises,  tliat  Waverley 
dreaded  his  ears  would  never  recover  it.  Mac-Ivor, 
indeed,  apologized  for  the  confusion  occasioned  by  so 
large  a  party,  and  pleaded  the  necessity  of  his  situation, 
on  which  unlimited  hospitality  was  imposed  as  a  para- 
mount duty.  "  These  stout  idle  kinsmen  of  mine,"  he 
said,  *'  account  my  estate  as  held  in  trust  for  their  sup- 
port ;  and  I  must  find  them  beef  and  ale,  while  the 
rogues  will  do  nothing  for  themselves  but  practise  the 
broad-sword,  or  wander  about  the  hills  shooting,  fishing, 
hunting,  drinking,  and  making  love  to  the  lasses  of  the 
strath.  But  w^hat  can  I  do,  Captain  Waverley  ^  every 
thing  will  keep  after  its  kind,  whether  it  be  a  hawk  or  a 
Highlander."  Edward  made  the  expected  answer,  in  a 
compliment  upon  his  possessing  so  many  bold  and  at- 
tached follov/ers. 

"  Why,  yes,"  replied  the  Chief,  '^  were  I  disposed, 
like  my  father,  to  put  myself  in  the  way  of  getting  one 
blow  on  the  head,  or  tuo  on  the  neck,  I  believe  the 
loons  would  stand  by  me.  But  who  thinks  of  that  in 
the  present  day,  when  the  maxim  is, — '  Better  an  old 
woman  with  a  purse  in  her  hand,  than  three  men  with 
V^lted  brands.'"  Then,  turning  to  the  company,  he 
I'.oposed  the  "  HeaUh  of  Captain  Waverley,  a  worthy 
friend  of  his  kind  neighbour  and  ally,  the  Baron  of 
Bradwardine." 


WAVERLKY.  147 

"  He  is  welcome  hither,"  said  one  of  the  elders,  "  if 
he  come  from  Cosmo  Comyne  Bradwardine." 

"  I  say  nay  to  that,"  said  an  old  man,  who  apparently 
did  not  mean  to  pledge  the  toast.  '•'  1  say  nay  to  that ; 
— while  there  is  a  green  leaf  in  the  forest,  there  will 
be  fraud  in  a  Comyne." 

"  There  is  nothing  but  honour  in  the  Baron  of  Brad- 
wardine," answered  another  ancient ;  "  and  the  guest 
that  comes  hither  from  him  should  be  welcome,  though 
he  came  with  blood  on  his  hand,  unless  it  were  blood  of 
the  race  of  Ivor." 

The  old  man  whose  cup  remained  full,  replied, 
"  There  has  been  blood  enough  of  the  race  of  Ivor  on 
the  hand  of  Bradwardine." 

"Ah!  BalJenkeiroch,"  replied  the  first,  "  3XH1  think 
rather  of  the  flasii  of  the  carbine  at  the  Mains  of  Tully- 
Veolan,  than  the  glance  of  the  sword  that  fought  for  the 
cause  at  Proud  Preston." 

"  And  well  I  may,"  answered  Ballenkeiroch  ;  "  the 
flash  of  the  gun  cost  me  a  fair-haired  son,  and  the  glance 
of  the  sword  has  done  but  little  for  King  James." 

The  Chieftain,  in  two  words  of  French,  explained  to 
Waverley,  that  the  Baron  had  shot  this  old  man's  son  in 
a  fray  near  Tully-Veolan  about  seven  years  before  ;  and 
then  hastened  to  remove  Ballenkeiroch's  prejudice,  by 
informing  him  that  Waverley  was  an  Englishman  uncon- 
nected by  birth  or  alliance  with  the  family  of  Bradwar- 
dine ;  upon  which  the  old  gentleman  raised  the  hitherto- 
untasted  cup,  and  courteously  drank  to  his  health.  This 
ceremony  being  requited  in  kind,  the  Chieftain  made  a 
signaLfor  the  pipes  to  cease,  and  said,  aloud,  "Where 
is  the  song  hidden,  my  friends,  that  Mac-Murrough  can- 
not find  it  .^" 

Mac-Murrough,  the  family  bhairdh,  an  aged  man,  im- 
mediately took  the  hint,  and  began  to  chant,  v.ith  low 
and  rapid  utterance,  a  profusion  of  Celtic  verses,  which 
were  received  by  the  audience  with  all  the  applause  of 
enthusiasm.  As  he  advanced  in  his  declamation,  his 
ardour  seemed  to  increase.     He  had  at  first  spoken  with 


'48  WAVERLEY. 

ills  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground  ;  he  now  cast  them  around 
as  if  beseeching,  and  anon  as  if  commanding  attention, 
and  his  tones  rose  into  wild  and  impassioned  notes,  ac- 
companied witli  appropriate  gesture.  He  seemed  to 
Edward,  who  attended  to  him  with  much  interest,  to 
recite  many  proper  names,  to  lament  the  dead,  to  apos- 
trophize the  absent,  to  exhort  and  entreat  and  animate 
those  who  were  present.  Waverley  thought  he  even 
discerned  his  own  name,  and  was  convinced  his  conjec- 
ture was  right,  from  the  eyes  of  the  company  being  at 
that  moment  turned  towards  him  simultaneously.  The 
ardour  of  the  poet  appeared  to  communicate  itself  to 
the  audience.  Their  wild  and  sun-burnt  countenances 
assumed  a  fiercer  and  more  animated  expression  ;  all 
bent  forward  toward  the  reciter,  many  sprung  up  and 
waved  their  arms  in  ecstacy,  and  some  laid  their  hands 
on  their  swords.  When  the  song  ceased,  there  was  a 
deep  pause,  w'hile  the  aroused  feelings  of  the  poet 
and  of  the  hearers  gradually  subsided  into  their  usual 
channel. 

The  Chieftain,  who,  during  this  scene,  had  appeared 
rather  to  watch  the  emotions  which  were  excited,  than 
10  partake  their  high  tone  o(  enthusiasm,  filled  with 
claret  a  small  silver  cup  w'hich  stood  by  him.  "Give 
this,"  he  said  to  an  attendant,  "  to  Mac-Murrough  nan 
Fonn,  (i.  e.  of  the  songs,)  and  when  he  has  drank  the 
juice  bid  him  keep,  for  the  sakeofVich  Ian  Vohr,  the  shell 
of  the  gourd  which  contained  it."  The  gift  was  re- 
ceived by  Mac-Murrouch  with  profound  gratitude  ;  he 
drank  the  wine,  and,  kissing  the  cup,  shrouded  it  with 
reverence  in  the  plaid  which  was  folded  on  his  bosom. 
He  then  burst  forth  into  what  Edward  justly  supposed 
to  be  an  extemporaneous  effusion  of  thanks,  and  praises 
of  his  chief.  It  was  received  with  applause,  but  did 
not  produce  the  effect  of  his  first  poem.  It  wgs  obvi- 
ous, hov/ever,  that  the  clan  regarded  the  generosity  of 
their  chieftain  with  high  approbation.  Many  approved 
Gaelic  toasts  were  then  proposed,  of  some  of  which  the 
Cliieftain  gave  his  guest  the  following  \ersions: 


WAVERLEY. 


149 


"  To  him  that  will  not  turn  his  back  on  friend  or  foe." 
*'  To  him  that  never  forsook  a  comrade."  "  To  him 
that  never  bought  or  sold  justice."  "  Hospitality  to  the 
exile,  and  broken  bones  to  the  tyrant."  "  The  lad? 
with  the  kilts."  "  Highlanders,  shoulder  to  shoulder." 
— with  many  other  phhy  sentiments  of  the  like  nature. 

Edward  was  particularly  solicitous  to  know  the  mean- 
ing of  that  song  which  appeared  to  produce  such  effect 
upon  the  passions  of  the  company,  and  hinted  his  curi- 
osity to  his  host.  "  As  I  observe,"  said  the  Chieftain, 
*'  that  you  have  passed  the  bottle  during  the  last  three 
rounds,  I  was  about  to  propose  to  you  to  retire  to  my 
sister's  tea-table,  who  can  explain  these  things  to  you 
better  than  I  can.  Although  I  cannot  stint  my  clan  in 
the  usual  current  of  their  festivity,  yet  I  neither  am  ad- 
dicted myself  to  exceed  in  its  amount,  nor  do  1,"  added 
he,  smiUng,  "  keep  a  Bear  to  devour  the  intellects  of 
such  as  can  make  good  use  of  them." 

Edward  readily  assented  to  this  proposal,  and  the 
Chieftain,  saying  a  few  words  to  those  around  him,  left 
the  table,  followed  by  Waverley.  jj^s  the  door  closed 
behind  them,  Edward  heard  Vich  Ian  Vohr's  health  iri- 
voked  with  a  wild  and  animated  cheer,  that  expressed 
the  satisfaction  of  the  gJests,  and  the  depth  of  their  de- 
votion to  his  service. 


CHAPTER  XXL 

The    Chieftain's  Siste-\ 

The  drawing-room  of  Flora  Mac-Ivor  was  furmshed 
in  the  plainest  and  most  simple  manner  ;  for  at  Glenna- 
quoich  every  other  sort  of  expenditure  was  retrenched 
as  much  as  possible,  for  the  purpose  of  maintaining,  id 

13*       VOL.     I. 


r50 


WAYERLEY. 


its  full  dignity,  the  hospitality  of  the  Chieftain,  and  re- 
taining and  multiplying  the  number  of  his  dependants 
and  adherents.  But  there  was  no  appearance  of  this 
parsimony  in  the  dress  of  the  lady  herself,  which  was  in 
texture  elegant,  and  even  rich,  and  arranged  in  a  manner 
which  partook  partly  of  the  Parisian  fashion,  and  partly 
of  the  more  simple  dress  of  the  Highlands,  blended  to- 
gether with  great  taste.  Her  hair  was  not  disfigured  by 
the  art  of  the  friseur,  but  Ml  in  jetty  ringlets  on  her 
neck,  confined  only  by  a  circlet,  richly  set  with  diamonds. 
This  peculiarity  she  adopted  in  compliance  with  the 
Highland  prejudices,  which  could  not  endure  that  a 
woman's  head  should  be  covered  before  wedlock. 

Flora  Mac-Ivor  bore  a  most  striking  resemblance  to 
her  brother  Fergus  ;  so  much  so,  that  they  might  have 
played  Viola  and  Sebastian  with  the  same  exquisite 
effect  produced  by  the  appearance  of  Mrs.  Henry  Sid- 
dons,  and  her  brother  in  those  characters.  They  had 
the  same  antique  and  regular  correctness  of  profile  ;  the 
same  dark  eyes,  eye-lashes,  and  eye-brows  ;  the  same 
'  jearness  of  compdcion,  excepting  that  Fergus's  was 
embrowned  by  exercise,  and  Flora's  possessed  the  ut- 
most feminine  delicacy.  But  die  haughty,  and  some- 
what stern  regularity  of  Fergus's  features  was  beautifully 
softened  in  those  of  Flora.  Their  voices  were  also 
similar  in  tone,  though  differing  in  the  key.  That  of 
Fergus,  especially  while  issuing  orders  to  his  followers 
during  their  military  exercise,  reminded  Edward  of  ?. 
favourite  passage  in  the  description  of  Emetrius  : 

■ whose  voice  was  heard  around, 

Loud  as  a  trumpet  with  a  silver  sound. 

That  of  Flora,  on  the  contrary,  was  soft  and  swee^, 
'-  an  excellent  thing  in  woman  ;"  yet  in  urging  any  fa- 
vourite topic,  which  she  often  pursued  with  natural  elo- 
qzience,  it  possessed  as  well  the  tones  which  impress  awe 
and  conviction,  as  those  of  persuasive  Insinuation.  The 
eager  glance  of  the  keen  black  eye,  which,  in  the  Chief- 


WAVE  RLE  Y.  151 

tain,  seemed  impatient  even  of  the  material  obstacles  it 
encountered,  had,  in  his  sister's,  acquired  a  gentle  pen- 
siveness.  His  looks  seemed  to  seek  glory,  power,  all  that 
could  exalt  him  above  others  in  the  race  of  humanity ; 
while  those  of  his  sister,  as  if  she  were  already  conscious 
of  mental  superiority,  seemed  to  pity,  rather  than  envy, 
those  who  were  strugghng  for  any  farther  distinction. 
Her  sentiments  corresponded  with  the  expression  of  her 
countenance.  Early  education  had  impressed  upon  her 
mind,  as  well  as  on  that  of  the  Chieftain,  the  most  de- 
voted attachment  to  the  exiled  family  of  Stuart.  She 
beheved  it  the  duty  of  her  brother,  of  his  clan,  of  every 
man  in  Britain,  at  whatever  personal  hazard,  to  contribute 
to  that  restoration  which  the  partizans  of  the  Chevalier 
St.  George  had  not  ceased  to  hope  for.  For  this  she 
was  prepared  to  do  all,  to  suffer  all,  to  sacrifice  all.  But 
her  loyalty,  as  it  exceeded  her  brother's  in  fanaticism, 
excelled  it  also  in  purity.  Accustomed  to  petty  intrigue, 
and  necessarily  involved  in  a  thousand  paltry  and  selfish 
discussions,  ambitious  also  by  nature,  his  political  faith 
was  tinctured  at  least,  if  not  tainted,  by  the  views  of  in- 
terest and  advancement  so  easily  combined  with  it ;  and 
at  the  moment  he  should  unsheath  his  claymore,  it  might 
be  difficult  to  say  whether  it  would  be  most  with  the  view 
of  making  James  Stuart  a  king,  or  Fergus  Mac-Ivor  an 
earl.  This,  indeed,  was  a  mixture  of  feehng  v.hich  he 
did  not  avow  even  to  himself,  but  it  existed,  neverthe- 
less, in  a  powerful  degree. 

In  Flora's  bosom,  on  the  contrary,  the  zeal  of  loyalty 
burnt  pure  and  unmixed  with  any  selfish  feeling  ;  she 
would  have  as  soon  made  religion  the  mask  of  ambitious 
Lnd  interested  views,  as  have  shrouded  them  under  the 
opinions  which  she  had  been  taught  to  think  patriotism. 
Such  instances  of  devotion  were  not  uncommon  am.ong 
the  followers  of  the  unhappy  race  of  Stuart,  of  which 
many  memorable  proofs  will  recur  to  the  mind  of  most 
of  ray  readers.  But  peculiar  attention  on  the  part  of 
Chevalier  de  St.  George  and  his  princess  to  the  parents 
of  Fergus  and  his  sister,  and  to  themselves,  when  orphans, 


152  WAVERIEY. 

-had  rivetted  their  faith.  Fergus,  upon  the  death  of  his 
parents,  had  been  for  some  time  a  page  of  honour  in  the 
train  of  the  Chevaher's  lady,  and,  from  his  beauty  and 
sprightly  temper,  was  uniformly  treated  by  her  with  the 
utmost  distinction.  This  was  also  extended  to  Flora, 
who  w^as  maintained  for  some  time  at  a  convent  of  the 
first  order,  at  the  princess's  expense,  and  removed  from 
thence  into  her  own  family,  where  she  spent  nearly  two 
years  ;  and  both  retained  the  deepest  and  most  grateful 
sense  of  her  kindness. 

Having  thus  touched  upon  the  leading  principles  of 
Flora's  character.  I  may  dismiss  the  rest  more  slightly. 
She  was  highly  accomplished,  and  had  acquired  those 
elegant  manners  to  be  expected  from  one  who,  in  early 
youth,  had  been  the  companion  of  a  princess  ;  yet  she 
had  not  learned  to  substitute  the  gloss  of  politeness  for 
the  reahty  of  feeling.  When  settled  in  the  lonely  regions 
of  Glennaquoich,  she  found  that  her  resources  in  Fiench, 
English,  and  Italian  hterature,  were  likely  to  be  few  and 
interrupted  ;  and,  in  order  to  fill  up  her  vacant  time,  she 
bestowed  a  part  of  it  upon  the  music  and  poetical  tradi- 
tions of  the  Highlanders,  and  began  really  to  feel  that 
pleasure  in  the  pursuit,  which  her  brother,  whose  percep- 
tions of  literary  merit  were  more  blunt,  rather  afiected 
for  the  sake  of  popularity  than  actually  experienced. 
Her  resolution  was  strengthened  in  these  researches,  by 
the  extreme  delight  which  her  inquiries  seemed  to  affoi  d 
those  to  whom  she  resorted  for  information. 

Her  love  of  her  clan,  an  attachment  which  was  almost 
hereditary  in  her  bosom,  was,  like  her  loyalty,  a  more 
pure  passion  than  that  of  her  brother.  He  was  too 
thorough  a  politician,  regarded  his  patriarchal  influence 
too  much  as  the  means  of  accompiisliing  his  own  aggran- 
dizement, that  we  should  term  him  the  model  of  a  High- 
land Chieftain.  Flora  felt  the  same  anxiety  for  cherish- 
ing and  extending  their  patriarchal  sway,  but  it  was  with 
the  generous  desire  of  vindicating  from  poverty,  or  at 
least  from  want  and  foreign  oppression,  those  whom  her 
brother  was  by  birth,  according  to  the  notions  of  the  tiir.o 


"WAVE  RLE  Y. 


153 


and  country,  entitled  to  govern.  The  savings  of  her  in- 
come, for  she  had  a  small  pension  from  the  Princess 
Sobieski,  were  dedicated,  not  to  add  to  the  comforts  of 
the  peasantry,  for  that  was  a  word  which  they  neither 
knew  nor  apparently  wished  to  know,  but  to  relieve  their 
absolute  necessities,  when  in  sickness  or  extreme  old 
age.  At  every  other  period,  they  rather  toiled  to  procure 
something  which  they  might  share  with  the  Chief,  as  a 
proof  of  their  attachment,  than  expected  other  assistance 
iVom  him  save  what  was  afforded  by  the  rude  hospitality 
of  his  castle,  and  the  general  division  and  subdivision  of 
his  estate  among  them.  Flora  was  so  much  beloved  by 
them,  that  when  Mac-]Murrough  composed  a  song,  in 
which  he  enumerated  all  the  principle  beauties  of  the 
district,  and  intimated  her  superiority  by  concluding,  that 
"  the  fairest  apple  hung  on  the  highest  bough,"  he  re- 
ceived, in  donatives  from  the  individuals  of  the  clan,  more 
seed-barley  than  would  have  sowed  his  Highland  Parnas- 
sus, the  Bard^s  croft,  as  it  was  called,  ten  times  over. 

From  situation,  as  well  as  choice.  Miss  Mac-Ivor's 
soci.ety  was  extremely  limited.  Her  most  intimate  friend 
had  been  Rose  Bradwardine,  to  whom  she  was  much 
attached  ;  and  when  seen  together,  they  w^ould  have  af- 
forded an  artist  two  admirable  subjects  for  the  gay  and 
the  melancholy  muse.  Indeed  Rose  was  so  tenderly 
watched  by  her  father,  and  her  circle  of  wishes  was  so 
limited,  that  none  arose  but  what  he  was  wilHng  to  gratify, 
and  scarce  any  which  did  not  come  within  the  compass 
of  his  power.  With  Flora  it  was  otherwise.  While 
almost  a  girl  she  had  undergone  the  most  complete 
change  of  scene,  from  gaiety  and  splendour  to  absolute 
solitude  and  comparative  poverty  ;  and  the  ideas  and 
wishes  which  she  chiefly  fostered,  respected  great  nation- 
al events,  and  changes  not  to  be  brought  round  without 
both  hazard  and  bloodshed,  and  therefore  not  to  be 
thought  of  with  levity.  Her  manner  consequently  was 
grave,  though  she  readily  contributed  her  talents  to  the 
amusement  of  society,  and  stood  very  high  in  the  opinion 
of  the  old  Baron,  who  used  to  sing  along  w^ith  her  such 


164  WAVE  RLE  Y. 

French  duets  of  Lindor  and  Cloris,  he.  as  were  in 
fashion  about  the  end  of  the  reign  of  old  Louis  le  Grand. 

It  was  generally  believed,  though  no  one  durst  have 
hinted  it  to  the  Baron  of  Bradwardine,  that  Flora's  en- 
treaties had  no  small  share  in  allaying  the  wrath  of  Fergus 
upon  occasion  of  their  quarrel.  She  took  her  brother 
on  the  assailable  side,  by  dwelling  first  upon  the  Baron's 
age,  and  then  representing  the  injury  which  the  cause 
might  sustain,  and  the  damage  which  must  arise  to  his 
own  character  in  point  of  prudence,  so  necessary  to  a 
political  agent,  if  he  persisted  in  carrying  it  to  extremity. 
Otherwise  it  is  probable  it  would  have  terminated  in  a 
duel,  both  because  the  Baron  had  on  a  former  occasion 
shed  blood  of  the  clan,  though  the  matter  had  been  timely 
accommodated,  and  on  account  of  his  high  reputation 
for  address  at  his  weapon,  which  Fergus  almost  conde- 
scended to  envy.  For  the  same  reason  she  had  urged 
their  reconciliation,  which  the  Chieftain  the  more  readily 
agreed  to,  as  it  favoured  some  ulterior  projects  of  his 
own. 

To  this  young  lady,  now  presiding  at  the  female  emx- 
pire  of  the  tea-table,  Fergus  introduced  Captain  Waver- 
ley,  whom  she  received  with  the  usual  forms  of  politeness. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

Highland  JMinstrehy . 

When  the  first  salutations  had  passed,  Fergus  said  to 
his  sister,  "  My  dear  Flora,  before  I  return  to  the  bar- 
barous ritual  of  our  forefathers,  I  must  tell  you  that  Cap- 
tain Waverley  is  a  worshipper  of  the  Celtic  muse,  not 
the  less  so  perhaps  that  he  does  not  understand  a  word 
of  her  language.  I  have  told  him  you  are  eminent  as  a 
translator  of  Highland  poetry,  and  that  Mac-Murrough 


WAYERLEY.  155 

admires  your  version  of  his  songs  upon  the  same  princi- 
ple that  Captain  Waverley  admires  their  original, — be- 
cause he  does  not  comprehend  them.  Will  you  have 
the  goodness  to  read  or  recite  to  our  guest  in  Eng- 
lish, the  extraordinary  string  of  names  which  Mac-Mur- 
rough  has  tacked  together  in  Gaelic  f — My  life  to  a 
moor-fowl's  feather,  you  are  provided  with  a  version  ; 
for  I  know  you  are  in  all  the  bard's  councils,  and  ac- 
quainted with  his  songs  long  before  he  rehearses  them  in 
the  hall." 

"  How  can  you  say  so,  Fergus  !  You  know  how  little 
these  verses  can  possibly  interest  an  English  stranger, 
even  if  I  could  translate  them  as  you  pretend." 

"  Not  less  than  they  interest  me,  lady  fair.  To-day 
your  joint  composition,  for  I  insist  you  had  a  share  in  it, 
has  cost  me  the  last  silver  cujj  in  the  castle,  and  I  suppose 
will  cost  me  something  else  next  time  I  hold  cour phniere, 
if  the  muse  descends  on  Mac-Murrough  ;  for  you  know 
our  proverb, — When  the  hand  of  the  chief  ceases  to 
bestow,  the  breath  of  the  bard  is  frozen  in  the  utterance. 
— Well,  I  would  it  were  even  so  :  there  are  three  things 
that  are  useless  to  a  modern  Highlander, — a  sword  whicli 
he  must  not  draw, — a  bard  to  sing  of  deeds  which  he 
dare  not  imitate, — and  a  large  goat-skin  purse  without  a 
iouis  d'or  to  put  into  it." 

"  Well,  brother,  since  you  betray  my  secrets,  you 
cannot  expect  me  to  keep  yours. — I  assure  you,  Captain 
Waverley,  that  Fergus  is  too  proud  to  exchange  his 
sword  for  a  marechal's  batoon  ;  that  he  esteems  Mac- 
Murrough  a  far  greater  poet  than  Homer,  and  would  not 
give  up  his  goat-skin  purse  for  all  the  Iouis  d'ors  which 
it  could  contain." 

"  Well  pronounced,  Flora  ;  blow  for  blow,  as  Conan 
said  to  the  devil.  Now  do  you  two  talk  of  bards  and 
poetry,  if  not  of  purses  and  claymores,  while  I  return  to 
do  the  final  honours  to  the  senators  of  the  tribe  of  Ivor." 
So  saying  he  left  the  room. 

The  conversation  continued  between  Flora  and  Wa- 
verley ;  for  two  Vvx41-dressed  young  women,  v.hose  char- 


156  WAVERLET. 

acter  seemed  to  hover  between  that  of  companions  and 
dependants,  took  no  share  in  it.  They  were  both  pretty 
girls,  but  served  only  as  foils  to  the  grace  and  beauty  of 
their  patroness.  The  discourse  followed  the  turn  which 
the  chieftain  had  given  it,  and  Waverley  was  equally 
amused  and  surprised  with  the  accounts  which  the  lady 
gave  him  of  Celtic  poetry. 

"  The  recitation,"  she  said,  "  of  poems,  recording  the 
feats  of  heroes,  the  complaints  of  lovers,  and  the  wars 
of  contending  tribes,  forms  the  chief  amusement  of  a 
winter  fire-side  in  the  Highlands.  Some  of  these  are 
said  to  be  very  ancient,  and  if  they  are  ever  translated 
into  any  of  the  languages  of  civihzed  Europe,  cannot 
fail  to  produce  a  deep  and  general  sensation.  Others 
are  more  modern,  the  composition  of  those  family  bards 
whom  the  chieftains  of  more  distinguished  name  and 
power  retain  as  the  poets  and  historians  of  their  tribes. 
These,  of  course,  possess  various  degrees  of  merit ;  but 
much  of  it  must  evaporate  in  translation,  or  be  lost  on 
those  who  do  not  sympathize  with  the  feehngs  of  the 
poet." 

*'  And  your  bard,  whose  effusions  seemed  to  produce 
such  effect  upon  the  company  to-day,  is  he  reckoned 
among  the  favourite  poets  of  the  mountains  .^" 

"  That  is  a  trying  question.  His  reputation  is  high 
among  his  countrymen,  and  you  must  not  expect  me  to 
depreciate  it." 

"  But  the  song.  Miss  Mac-Ivor,  seemed  to  awaken  all 
those  warriors,  both  young  and  old." 

"  The  song  is  little  more  than  a  catalogue  of  names 
of  the  Highland  clans  under  their  distinctive  peculiarities, 
and  an  exhortation  to  them  to  remember  and  to  emulate 
the  actions  of  their  forefathers." 

"  And  am  I  wrong  in  conjecturing,  however  extraor- 
dinary the  guess  appears,  that  there  was  some  allusion 
to  me  in  the  verses  which  he  recited  ?" 

*'  You  have  a  quick  observation.  Captain  Waverley, 
which  in  this  instance  has  not  deceived  you.  The  Gaelic 
language,  being  uncommonly  vocalic,  is  well  adapted  for 


WAVERIET.  157 

sudden  and  extemporaneous  poetry  ;  and  a  bard  seldom 
fails  to  augment  the  effects  of  a  premeditated  song,  by 
throwing  in  any  stanzas  which  may  be  suggested  by  the 
circumstances  attending  the  recitation." 

"  1  would  give  my  best  horse  to  know  what  the  High- 
land  bard  could  find  to  say  of  such  an  unworthy  southern 
as  myself." 

"  It  shall  not  even  cost  you  a  lock  of  his  mane. — Una, 
Mavourneen  !  (She  spoke  a  few  words  to  one  of  the 
young  girls  in  attendance,  who  instantly  curtsied  and 
tripped  out  of  the  room.) — 1  have  sent  Una  to  learn 
from  the  bard  the  expressions  he  used,  and  you  shall 
command  my  skill  as  dragoman." 

Una  returned  in  a  few  minutes,  and  repeated  to  her 
mistress  a  few  lines  in  Gaelic.  Flora  seemed  to  think 
for  a  moment,  and  then,  slightly  colouring,  she  turned  to 
Waverley — "  It  is  impossible  to  gratify  your  curiosity. 
Captain  Waverley,  without  exposing  my  own  presump- 
tion. If  you  will  give  me  a  (ew  moments  for  consider- 
ation, I  will  endeavour  to  engraft  the  meaning  of  these 
lines  upon  a  rude  Enghsh  translation,  which  I  have  at- 
tempted of  a  part  of  the  original.  The  duties  of  the 
tea-table  seem  to  be  concluded,  and,  as  the  evening  is 
delightful,  Una  will  show  you  the  way  to  one  of  my  fa- 
vourite haunts,  and  Cathleen  and  I  will  join  you  there." 

Una,  having  received  instructions  in  her  native  lan- 
guage, conducted  Waverley  out  by  a  passage  different 
from  that  through  which  he  had  entered  the  apartment. 
At  a  distance  he  heard  the  hall  of  the  Chief  still  resound- 
ing with  a  clang  of  bagpipes  and  the  high  applause  of 
the  guests.  Having  gained  the  open  air  by  a  postern 
door,  they  walked  a  little  way  up  the  wild,  bleak,  and 
narrow  valley  in  which  the  house  was  situated,  following 
the  course  of  the  stream  that  winded  through  it.  In  a 
spot,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  castle,  two  brooks, 
which  formed  the  little  river,  had  their  junction.  The 
larger  of  the  two  came  dowm  the  long  bare  valley,  which 
extended,  apparently  without  any  change  or  elevation  of 

14       VOL.    I. 


158 


WATERLEY 


character,  as  far  as  the  hills  which  formed  its  houndary 
permitted  the  eye  to  reach.  But  the  other  stream, 
which  had  its  source  among  the  mountains  on  the  left 
hand  of  the  strath,  seemed  to  issue  from  a  very  narrow 
and  dark  opening  betwixt  two  large  rocks.  These 
streams  were  different  also  in  character.  The  larger 
was  placid,  and  even  sullen  in  its  course,  wheeling  in 
deep  eddies,  or  sleeping  in  dark  blue  pools  ;  but  the 
inotions  of  the  lesser  brook  were  rapid  and  furious,  is- 
suing from  between  precipices  like  a  maniac  from  his 
confinement,  all  foam  and  upioar. 

It  was  up  the  course  of  this  last  stream  that  Waver- 
ley,  like  a  knight  of  romance,  was  conducted  by  the 
fair  Highland  damsel,  his  silent  guide.  A  small  path, 
w^hich  had  been  rendered  easy  in  many  places  for 
Flora's  accommodation,  led  him  through  scenery  of  a 
very  different  description  from  that  which  he  had  just 
quitted.  Around  the  castle,  all  was  cold,  bare,  and  des- 
olate, yet  tame  even  in  desolation  ;  but  this  narrow  glen, 
at  so  short  a  distance,  seemed  to  open  into  the  land  of 
romance.  The  rocks  assumed  a  thousand  peculiar  and 
varied  forms.  In  one  place,  a  crag  of  huge  size  pre- 
sented its  gigantic  bulk,  as  if  to  forbid  the  passenger's 
farther  progress ;  and  it  was  not  till  he  approached  its 
very  base,  that  Waverley  discerned  the  sudden  and 
acute  turn  by  which  the  pathway  wheeled  its  course 
around  this  formidable  obstacle.  In  another  spot,  the 
})rojecting  rocks  from  the  opposite  sides  of  the  chasm 
had  approached  so  near  to  each  other,  that  two  pine- 
trees  laid  across,  and  covered  with  turf,  formed  a  rustic 
bridge  at  the  height  of  at  least  one  hundred  and  fifty 
feet.  It  had  no  ledges,  and  was  barely  three  feet  in 
breadth. 

While  gazing  at  this  pass  of  peril,  which  crossed,  like 
a  single  black  line,  the  si-nall  portion  of  blue  sky  not  in- 
tercepted by  the  projecting  rocks  on  either  side,  it  was 
uith  a  sensation  of  honor  that  Waverley  beheld  Flora 
and  her  attendant  appear,  like  inhabitants  of  another 
region,  propped,  as  it   were,  in  mid  air,  upon  this  treni- 


WATERtEY.  i  59 

bliiig  structure.  She  stopped  upon  observing  bim  be- 
low, and,  with  an  air  of  graceful  ease,  which  made  him 
shudder,  waved  her  handkerchief  to  him  by  way  of  sig- 
nal. He  was  unable,  from  the  sense  of  dizziness  which 
her  situation  conveyed,  to  return  the  salute  ;  and  was 
never  more  relieved  than  when  the  fair  apparition  passed 
on  from  the  precarious  eminence  which  she  seemed  to 
occupy  with  so  much  indifference,  and  disappeared  on 
*lhe  other  side. 

Advancing  a  (e\v  yards,  and  passing  under  the  bridge 
which  he  had  viewed  with  so  much  terror,  the  path  as- 
cended rapidly  from  tlie  edge  of  the  brook,  and  the  glen 
w^idened  into  a  sylvan  amphitheatre,  waving  with  birch, 
young  oaks,  and  hazels,  with  here  and  there  a  scattered 
yew-tree.  The  rocks  now  receded,  but  still  showed 
their  grey  and  shaggy  crests  rising  among  the  copse- 
wood.  Still  higher,  rose  eminences  and  peaks,  some 
bare,  some  clothed  with  wood,  some  round  and  purple 
with  heath,  and  others  splintered  into  rocks  and  crags. 
At  a  short  turning,  the  path,  which  had  for  some  fur- 
longs lost  sight  of  the  brook,  suddenly  placed  Waverley 
in  front  of  a  romantic  water-fall.  It  was  not  so  remark- 
able either  for  great  height  or  quantity  of  water,  as  for 
the  beautiful  accompaniments  which  made  the  spot  in- 
teresting. After  a  broken  cataract  of  about  twenty  feet, 
the  stream  was  received  in  a  large  natural  basin,  filled 
to  the  brim  ^vith  water,  which,  where  the  bubbles  of  the 
fall  subsided,  was  so  exquisitely  clear,  that  although  it  was 
of  great  depth,  the  eye  could  discern  each  pebble  at  the 
bottom.  Eddying  round  this  reservoir,  the  brook  found 
its  way  as  if  over  a  broken  part  of  the  ledge,  and  form- 
ed a  second  fall,  w'hich  seemed  to  seek  the  very  abyss  ; 
then  wheeling  out  beneath,  from  among  the  smooth 
dark  rocks,  which  it  had  polished  for  ages,  it  wandered 
murmuring  down  the  glen,  forming  the  stream  up  which 
Waverley  had  just  ascended.  The  borders  of  this  ro- 
mantic reservoir  corresponded  in  beauty  ;  but  it  was 
beauty  of  a  stern  and  commanding  cast,  as  if  in  the 
act  of  expanding  into  grandeur.     Mossy  banks  of  turf 


160 


WAVERLEY. 


were  broken  and  interrupted  by  huge  fragments  of  rock, 
and  decorated  with  trees  and  shrubs,  some  of  which  had 
been  planted  under  the  direction  of  Flora,  but  so  cau- 
tiously, that  they  added  to  the  grace,  without  diminish- 
ing the  romantic  wildness  of  the  scene. 
>  Here,  like  one  of  those  lovely  forms  which  decorate 
the  landscapes  of  Poussin,  Wa\  erley  found  Flora  gazing 
on  the  w^ater-fall.  Two  paces  farther  back  stood  Cath- 
leen,  holding  a  small  Scottish  harp,  the  use  of  which 
had  been  taught  to  Flora  by  Rory  Dall,  one  of  the  last 
harpers  of  the  Western  Highlands.  The  sun,  now 
stooping  in  the  w^est,  gave  a  rich  and  varied  tinge  to  all 
the  objects  which  surrounded  Waverley,  and  seemed  to 
add  more  than  human  brilliancy  to  the  full  expressive 
darkness  of  Flora's  eye,  exalted  the  richness  and  purity 
of  her  complexion,  and  enhanced  the  dignity  and  grace 
of  her  beautiful  form.  Edward  thought  he  had  never, 
even  in  his  wildest  dreams,  imagined  a  figure  of  such 
exquisite  and  interesting  loveliness.  The  wild  beauty  of 
the  retreat,  bursting  upon  him  as  if  by  magic,  augmented 
the  mingled  feehng  of  delight  and  aw^e  with  which  he 
approached  her,  hke  a  fair  enchantress  of  Boiardo  or 
Ariosto,  by  whose  nod  the  scenery  around  seemed  to 
have  been  created,  an  Eden  in  the  wilderness. 

Flora,  hke  every  beautiful  woman,  was  conscious  of 
her  own  power,  and  pleased  with  its  effects,  which  she 
could  easily  discern  from  the  respectful,  yet  confused 
address  of  the  young  soldier.  But  as  she  possessed 
excellent  sense,  she  gave  the  romance  of  the  scene,  and 
other  accidental  circumstances,  full  weight  in  appreci- 
ating the  feelings  with  which  Waverley  seemed  obvious- 
ly to  be  impressed ;  and,  unacquainted  with  the  fanciful 
and  susceptible  pecuharities  of  his  character,  consider- 
ed his  homage  as  the  passing  tribute  which  a  woman  of 
even  inferior  charms  might  have  expected  in  such  a  sit- 
uation. She  therefore  quietly  led  the  way  to  a  spot  at 
such  a  distance  from  the  cascade,  that  its  sound  should 
rather  accompany  than  interrupt  that  of  her  voice  and 


WAVERLEY.  161 

instrument,  and,  sitting  down  upon  a  mossy  fragment  of 
rock,  she  took  the  harp  from  Cathleen. 

"  I  have  given  you  the  trouble  of  walking  to  this  spot, 
Captain  Waverley,  both  because  I  thought  the  scenery 
would  interest  you,  and  because  a  Highland  song  would 
suffer  still  more  from  my  imperfect  translation,  were  I 
to- produce  it  without  its  own  wild  and  appropriate  ac- 
companiments. To  speak  in  the  poetical  language  of 
my  country,  the  seat  of  the  Celtic  Muse  is  in  the  mist 
of  the  secret  and  solitary  hill,  and  her  voice  in  the  mur- 
mur of  the  mountain  stream.  He  who  woos  her  must 
love  the  barren  rock  more  than  the  fertile  valley,  and 
the  solitude  of  the  desert  better  than  the  festivity  of  the 
hall." 

Few  could  have  heard  this  lovely  woman  make  this 
declaration,  with  a  voice  where  harmony  was  exalted 
by  pathos,  w-ithout  exclaiming  that  the  muse  whom  she 
invoked,  could  never  find  a  more  appropriate  represen- 
tative. But  Waverley,  though  the  thought  rushed  on 
his  mind,  found  no  courage  to  utter  it.  Indeed  the  wild 
feeling  of  romantic  delight,  with  which  he  heard  the  few 
first  notes  she  drew  from  her  instrument,  amounted  al- 
most to  a  sense  of  pain.  He  would  not  for  w^orlds  have 
quitted  his  place  by  her  side  ;  yet  he  almost  longed  for 
solitude,  that  he  might  decipher  and  examine  at  leisure 
the  complication  of  emotions  which  now  agitated  his 
bosom. 

Flora  had  exchanged  the  measured  and  monotonous 
recitative  of  the  bard  for  a  lofty  and  uncommon  High- 
land air,  which  had  been  a  battle-song  in  former  ages., 
A.  few  irregular  strains  introduced  a  prelude  of  a  wild 
and  peculiar  tone,  which  harmonized  well  with  the  dis- 
tant water-fall,  and  the  soft  sigh  of  the  evening  breeze 
in  the  rustling  leaves  of  an  aspen  which  overhung  the 
seat  of  the  fair  harpress.  The  following  verses  convey 
but  little  idea  of  the  feelings  with  which,  so  sung  and 
accompanied,  they  were  heard  by  Waverley. 

14*       VOL.    u 


162  "WAVERLEY. 

There  is  mist  on  the  mountain,  and  night  on  the  vale, 
But  more  dark  is  the  sleep  of  the  sons  of  the  Gael. 
A  slrang-er  commanded — it  sunk  on  the  land. 
It  has  frozen  each  heart,  and  benumb'd  every  hand ! 

The  dirk  and  the  target  lie  sordid  with  dust, 
The  bloodless  c]a\Tnore  is  but  redden'd  with  rust; 
On  the  hill  or  the  glen  if  a  gun  should  appear, 
It  is  only  to  war  with  the  heath-cock  or  deer. 

The  deeds  of  our  sires  if  our  bards  should  rehearse. 
Let  a  blush  or  a  blow  be  the  meed  of  their  verse  I 
Be  mute  every  string,  and  be  hush'd  every  tone. 
That  shall  bid  us  remember  the  fame  that  is  flown. 

But  the  dark  hours  of  night  and  of  slumber  are  past. 
The  morn  on  our  mountains  is  dawning  at  last ; 
Glenaladale's  peaks  are  illumed  with  the  rays,    . 
And  the  streams  of  Glenfinnan  leap  bright  in  the  blaze. 

O  high-minded  Moray  ! — the  exiled — the  dear ! — 
In  the  blush  of  the  dawning  the  Standard  uprear  ! 
Wide,  wide  on  the  winds  of  the  north  let  it  fly. 
Like  the  sun's  latest  flash  when  the  tempest  is  nigh  ! 

Ye  sons  of  the  strong,  when  that  dawning  shall  breaJc, 
Need  the  harp  of  the  aged  remind  you  to  wake  ? 
That  dawn  never  beamed  on  your  forefathers'  eye, 
But  it  roused  each  high  chieftain  to  vanquish  or  die. 

O  sprung  from  the  Kings  who  in  Islay  kept  state. 
Proud  chiefs  of  Clan  Ranald,  Glengary,  and  Sleat ! 
Combine  like  three  streams  from  one  mountain  of  snow, 
And  resistless  in  union  rush  down  on  the  foe  ! 

True  son  of  Sir  Evan,  undaunted  Lochiel, 
.  Place  thy  targe  on  thy  shoulder  and  burnish  thy  steel  \ 
Rough  Keppoch,  give  breath  to  thy  bugle's  bold  swell. 
Till  far  Coryarrick  resound  to  the  knell ! 

vStcrii    Oil  of  Lord  Kenneth,  high  chief  of  Kintail, 
Let  tbo  stag  in  thy  slaiic^ard  bound  wild  in  the  gale'. 
May  the  rare  of  Clan  Gillean,  the  fearless  and  free^ 
Remember  Glenlivat,  Harlaw,and  Dundee! 

Let  the  dan  of  grey  Fingon,  whose  offspring  has  given 
Such  heroe-s  to  earth,  and  such  martyrs  to  heaven, 


WAVERLET.  163 

Unite  with  the  race  of  renown'd  Rorri  More, 
To  launch  the  long  galley,  and  stretch  to  the  oar  1 

How  Mac  Shimei  will  joy  when  their  chief  shall  display 
The  yew-crested  bonnet  o'er  tresses  of  grey '. 
How  the  race  of  wrong'd  Alpine  and  murder'd  Glencoe 
Shall  shout  for  revenge  when  they  pour  on  the  foe ' 

Ye  sons  of  brown  Dermid,  who  slew  the  wild  boar. 
Resume  the  pure  faith  of  the  great  Galium  More  l 
Mac-Neil  of  the  Islands,  and  Moy  of  the  Lake, 
For  honour,  for  freedom,  for  vengeance  awake  ! 

Here  a  large  greyhound,  bounding  up  the  glen,  jump- 
ed upon  Flora,  and  interrupted  her  music  by  his  im- 
portunate caresses.  At  a  distant  whistle,  he  turned  and 
shot  down  the  path  again  with  the  rapidity  of  an  ar- 
row. "  That  is  Fergus's  faithful  attendant.  Captain  Wa- 
verley,"  said  Flora,  "  and  that  was  his  signal.  He  likes 
no  poetry  but  what  is  humorous,  and  comes  in  good  time 
to  interrupt  my  long  catalogue  of  the  tribes,  whom  one 
of  your  saucy  English  poets  calls 

Our  bootless  host  of  high-bori  beggars, 
Mac-Leans,  Mac-Kenzies.QAid  Mac-Gregoi-s." 

Waverley  expressed  his  regret  at  the  interruption = 
"  O  you  cannot  guess  how  much  you  have  lost !  The 
bard,  as  in  duty  bound,  has  addressed  three  long  stan- 
zas to  Vich  Ian  Vohr  of  the  Banners,  enumerating  all 
his  great  properties,  and  not  forgetting  his  being  a  cheer- 
er  of  the  harper  and  bard — '  a  giver  of  bounteous  gifts.' 
Besides,  you  should  have  heard  a  practical  admonition 
to  the  fair-haired  son  of  the  stranger,  who  lives  in  the 
land  where  the  grass  is  always  green — the  rider  on  the 
shining  pampered  steed,  whose  hue  is  like  the  raven,  and 
whose  neigh  is  like  the  scream  of  the  eagle  for  battle. 
This  valiant  horseman  is  affectionately  conjured  to  re- 
member that  his  ancestors  were  distinguished  by  their 
loyalty,  as  well  as  by  their  courage. — All  this  you  have 
lost;  but  since  your  curiosity  is   not  satisfied,  I  judge, 


164  WAVERLEY. 

from  the  distant  sound  of  my  brother's  whistle,  I  may 
have  time  to  sing  the  concluding  stanzas  before  he  comes 
to  laugh  at  my  translation." 

Aweike  on  your  hills,  on  your  islands  awake, 
Brave  sons  of  the  mountain,  the  frith,  and  the  lake  ! 
'Tis  the  bugle — but  not  for  the  chase  is  the  call  ; 
'Tis  the  pibroch's  shrill  summons — but  not  to  the  hall. 

'Tis  the  summons  of  heroes  for  conquest  or  death, 
When  the  banners  are  blazing  on  mountain  and  heath  : 
They  call  to  the  dirk,  the  claymore,  and  the  targe. 
To  tlie  march  and  the  muster,  the  line  and  the  charge. 

Be  the  brand  of  each  chieftain  like  Fin's  in  his  ire  ! 
May  the  blood  through  his  veins  flow  like  currents  of  fire  ! 
Burst  the  base  foreign  yoke  a^  your  sires  did  of  yore, 
Or  die  like  your  sires,  and  endure  it  no  more  ! 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

fVaverley  continues  at  Glennaquoich. 

As  Flora  concluded  her  song,  Fergus  stood  before 
them.  "  I  knew  I  should  find  you  here,  even  without 
the  assistance  of  my  friend  Bran.  A  simple  and  unsub- 
limed  taste  now,  like  my  own,  would  prefer  a  jet 
d'eau  at  Versailles  to  this  cascade,  with  all  its  accom- 
paniments of  rock  and  roar  ;  but  this  is  Flora's  Parnas- 
sus, Captain  Waverley,  and  that  fountain  her  Helicon. 
it  would  be  greatly  for  the  benefit  of  my  cellar  if  she 
rould  teach  her  coadjutor,  Mac-Murrough,  the  value  of 
its  influence  :  he  has  just  drank  a  pint  of  usquebaugh 
to  correct,  he  said,  the  coldness  of  the  claret — Let  me 
try  its  virtues."  He  sipped  a  little  water  in  the  hollow 
of  his  hand,and  immediately  commenced,  with  a  theatri- 
xal  air, — 


WAVERI.EY.  165 

"  O  Lady  of  the  desert,  hail ! 
That  lovest  the  harping  of  the  Gael, 
Through  fair  and  fertile  regions  borne, 
Where  never  yet  grew  grass  or  com. 

But  English  poetry  will  never  succeed  under  the  influ- 
ence of  a  Highland  Helicon — Allons  courage-— 

O  vous,  qui  buvez  a  tasse  pleine, 
A  cette  heureuse  fontaine, 
Ou  on  ne  voit  sur  le  riveige, 

Que  quelques  vilains  troupeaux 
Suivis  de  nymphes  de  village, 
Qui  les  escortent  sans  sabots" 

"  A  truce,  dear  Fergus  !  spare  us  those  most  tedious 
and  insipid  persons  of  all  Arcadia.  Do  not,  for  Heav- 
en's sake,  bring  down  Coridon  and  Lindor  upon  us." 

"  Nay,  if  you  cannot  relish  la  houletie  et  le  chain- 
meaUj  have  with  you  in  heroic  strains." 

'^  Dear  Fergus,  you  have  certainly  partaken  of  the 
inspiration  of  Mac-Murrough's  cup,  rather  than  of  mine." 

*'  I  disclaim  it,  ma  belle  demoiselle^  although  I  protest 
it  would  be  the  more  congenial  of  the  two.  Which  of 
your  crack-brained  Italian  romancers  is  it  that  says, 

lo  d'Elieona  niente 
Mi  euro,  in  fe  de  Dio,  che'l  bere  d'acque 
(Bea  chi  ber  ne  \'uol)  sempre  mi  spiacque  !* 

But  if  you  prefer  the  Gaelic,  Captain  Waverley,  here  is 
little  Cathleen  shall  sing  you  Drimmindhu. — Come, 
Cathleen,  astore,  (i.  e.  my  dear,)  begin  ;  no  apologies 
to  the  Cean-kinn6y 

Cathleen  sung  with  much  livehness  a  Httle  Gaelic 
song,  the  burlesque  elegy  of  a  countryman  upon  the  loss 
of  his  cow,  the  comic  tones  of  which,  though  he  did  not 


*  Good  sooth,  I  reck  nought  of  your  Helicon  ; 
Drink  water  whoso  will,  in  faith  I  will  drink  none. 


166 


^V  AYE  RLE  Y 


understand   the  language,  made  VVaverley  laugh   more 
than  once. 

"  Admirable,  Cathleen  !"  cried  the  Chieftain  ;  "  I 
must  find  you  a  handsome  husband  among  the  clansmen 
one  of  these  days." 

Cathleen  laughed,  blushed,  and  sheltered  herself  be- 
hind her  companion. 

In  the  progress  of  their  return  to  the  castle,  the 
Chieftain  warmly  pressed  Waverley  to  stay  for  a  week 
or  two,  in  order  to  see  a  grand  hunting  party,  in  which 
he  and  some  other  Highland  gentlemen  proposed  to 
join.  The  charms  of  melody  and  beauty  were  too 
strongly  impressed  in  Edward's  breast  to  permit  his  de- 
cHning  an  invitation  so  pleasing.  It  was  agreed,  there- 
fore, that  he  should  write  a  note  to  the  Baron  of  Brad- 
wardine,  expressing  his  intention  to  stay  a  fortnight  at 
Glennaquoich,  and  requesting  him  to  forward  by  die 
bearer  (a  gilhj  of  the  Chieftain's)  any  letters  which 
might  have  arrived  for  him. 

This  turned  the  discourse  upon  the  Baron,  whom 
Fergus  highly  extolled  as  a  gentleman  and  soldier.  His 
character  was  touched  with  yet  more  discrimination  by 
Flora,  who  observed  he  was  the  very  model  of  the  old 
Scottish  cavalier,  with  all  his  excehences  and  pecu- 
liarities. "  It  is  a  character.  Captain  Waverley,  which 
is  fast  disappearing  ;  for  its  best  point  was  a  self-respect 
which  was  never  lost  sight  of  till  now.  But  now,  in  the 
present  time,  the  gentlemen  whose  principles  do  not 
permit  them  to  pay  court  to  the  present  government, 
are  neglected  and  degraded,  and  many  conduct  them- 
selves accordingly  ;  and,  hke  some  of  the  persons  you 
have  seen  at  Tully-Veolan,  adopt  habits  and  companions 
inconsistent  with  their  birth  and  breeding.  The  ruth- 
less proscription  of  party  seems  to  degrade  the  victims 
whom  it  brands,  however  unjustly.  But  let  us  hope  a 
brighter  day  is  approaching,  when  a  Scottish  country- 
gentleman  may  be  a  scholar  without  the  pedantry  of  our 
friend  the  Baron,  a  sportsman  without  the  low  habits  of 
Mr.  Falconer,  and  a  judicious  improver  of  his  property 


^VAVERl^EY 


167 


without  becoming  a  boorish  two-Iesged  steer  hke  Kil- 
lancureit." 

Thus  did  Flora  prophesy  a  revolution,  which  time  in- 
deed has  produced,  but  in  a  manner  very  different  from 
what  she  had  in  her  mind. 

The  amiable  Rose  was  next  mentioned,  with  the 
warmest  encomium  on  her  person,  manners,  and  mind. 
"  That  man,"  said  Flora,  "  will  find  an  inestimable 
treasure  in  the  affections  of  Rose  Bradwardine,  who 
shall  be  so  fortunate,  as  to  become  their  object.  Her 
very  soul  is  in  home,  and  in  the  discharge  of  all  those 
quiet  virtues  of  which  home  is  the  centre.  Her  liusband 
will  be  to  her  what  her  father  now  is,  the  object  of  all 
her  care,  solicitude,  and  affection.  She  will  see  noth- 
ing, and  connect  herself  with  nothing,  but  by  him  and 
through  him.  If  he  is  a  man  of  sense  and  virtue,  she 
will  sympathize  in  his  sorrov.s,  divert  his  fatigue,  and 
share  his  pleasures.  If  she  becomes  the  property  of  a 
churlish  or  negligent  husband,  she  \v\\\  suit  his  taste  also, 
for  she  will  not  long  survive  his  unkindness.  And, 
alas  !  how  great  is  the  chance  that  some  such  unw  orthy 
lot  may  be  that  of  my  poor  friend  I — O  that  I  were  a 
queen  this  moment,  and  could  command  the  most  ami- 
able and  worthy  youth  of  my  kingdom  to  accept  happi- 
ness with  the  hand  of  Rose  Bradwardine  !" 

'*  I  wish  you  would  command  her  to  accept  mine  en 
attendant  "  said  Fergus,  laughing. 

I  don't  know  by  what  caprice  it  was  that  this  wish, 
however  jocularly  expressed,  rather  jarred  on  Edward's 
feelings,  notwithstanding  his  growing  inclination  to  Flora, 
and  his  indifference  to  Miss  Bradw^ardine.  This  is  one 
Oi  the  inexplicabihties  of  human  nature,  which  we  leave 
without  comment. 

"  Your's,  brother  ?"  answered  Flora,  regarding  him 
steadily.  "  No  ;  you  have  another  bride — Honour  ; 
and  the  dangers  you  must  run  in  pursuit  of  her  riral 
would  break  poor  Rose's  heart." 

Witii  this  discourse  they  reached  the  castle,  and  Wa- 
verlev  soon  prepared  his  despatches    for  Tuily-Veolan 


1 68  WAVERLEY. 

As  he  knew  the  Baron  was  punctilious  in  such  matters, 
he  was  about  to  impress  his  billet  with  a  seal  on  which 
his  armorial  bearings  were  engraved,  but  he  did  not  find 
it  at  his  watch.  He  mentioned  his  loss,  borrowing  at 
the  same  time  the  family  seal  of  the  Chieftain.  He 
thought  he  must  have  left  it  at  Tully-Veolan. 

"  Surely,"  said  Miss  Mac-Ivor,  "  Donald  Bean  Lean 
would  not" 

"  My  life  for  him,  in  such  circumstances,"  answered 
her  brother  ;  "  besides,  he  would  never  have  left  the 
watch  behind." 

"  After  all,  Fergus,"  said  Flora,  "  and  with  every 
allowance,  1  am  surprised  you  can  countenance  that 
man." 

"I  countenance  him  ^ — This  kind  sister  of  mine 
would  persuade  you,  Captain  Waverley,  that  I  take  what 
the  people  of  old  used  to  call  a  '  steak-raid,'  that  is, 
a  'collop  of  the  foray'  or,  in  plainer  words,  a  portion 
of  the  robber's  booty,  paid  by  him  to  the  laird,  or 
chief,  through  whose  grounds  he  drove  his  prey.  O 
it  is  certain  that  unless  I  can  find  some  way  to  charm 
Flora's  tongue,  General  Blakeney  will  send  a  Serjeant's 
party  from  Stirling  (this  he  said  with  haughty  and  em- 
phatic irony)  to  seize  Vich  Ian  Vohr,  as  they  nickname 
me,  in  his  own  castle." 

"  Now,  Fergus,  must  not  our  guest  be  sensible  that 
all  this  is  folly  and  affectation  ^  You  have  men  enough 
to  serve  you  without  enlisting  banditti,  and  your  own 
honour  is  above  taint — Why  don't  you  send  this  Donald 
Bean  Lean,  whom  I  hate  for  bis  smoothness  and  duplic- 
ity, even  more  than  for  his  rapine,  out  of  your  country 
at  once  ?  No  cause  should  induce  me  to  tolerate  such 
a  character." 

"  No  cause.  Flora  !"  said  the  Chieftain,  significantly. 

"  No  cause,  Fergus  !  not  even  that  which  is  nearest 
to  my  heart.  Spare  it  the  omen  of  such  evil  support- 
ers !" 

"O  but,  sister,"  rejoined  the  Chief,  gaily,  "you 
don't  consider   my  respect  for   la  belle  passion.     Evan 


WAVERLEY.  169 

Dhu  Maccombich  is  in  love  with  Donald's  daughter, 
Alice,  and  you  cannot  expect  me  to  disturb  him  in  his 
amours.  Why,  the  whole  clan  would  cry  shame  on  me. 
You  know  it  is  one  of  their  wise  sayings,  that  a  kinsman 
is  part  of  a  man's  body,  but  a  foster-brother  is  a  piece 
of  his  heart." 

"  Well,  Fergus,  there  is  no  disputing  with  you  ;  but 
I  would  all  this  may  end  well." 

"  Devoutly  prayed,  my  dear  and  prophetic  sister, 
and  the  best  way  in  the  world  to  close  a  dubious  argu- 
ment.— But  hear  ye  not  the  pipes.  Captain  Waverley? 
Perhaps  you  will  hke  better  to  dance  to  them  in  the 
hall,  than  to  be  deafened  with  their  harmony  without  tak- 
ing part  in  the  exercise  they  invite  us  to." 

Waverley  took  Flora's  hand.  The  dance,  song,  and 
merry-making  proceeded,  and  closed  the  day's  entertain- 
ment at  the  castle  of  Vich  Ian  Vohr.  Edward  at  length 
retired,  his  mind  agitated  by  a  variety  of  new  and  con- 
flicting feehngs,  which  detained  him  from  rest  for  some 
time,  in  that  not  unpleasing  state  of  mind  in  which  fancy 
takes  the  helm,  and  the  soul  rather  drifts  passively  along 
with  the  rgpid  and  confused  tide  of  reflections,  than  ex- 
erts ilseir  to  encounter,  systematize,  or  examine  them. 
At  a  late  lour  he  fell  asleep,  and  dreamed  of  Flora  Mac- 
Ivor. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

/  Stag-hunting  and  its  Consequences. 

_Sh.'  l  ..  triis  be  a  long  or  a  short  chapter  ? — This  is  a 
question    iti  which  you,   gentle    reader,  have   no    vote, 
however  much   you   may   be    interested    in    the  conse- 
quences •    ;'st  as,  probably  you  may  (like  myself ">  have 
15  h,  I. 


170  WAVERLEY. 

nothing  to  do  with  the  imposing  a  new  tax,  excepting 
the  trifling  circumstance  of  being  obliged  to  pay  it. 
More  happy  surely  in  the  present  case,  since,  though  it 
lies  within  my  arbitrary  power  to  extend  my  materials 
as  1  think  proper,  I  cannot  call  you  into  Exchequer  if 
you  do  not  think  proper  to  read  my  narrative.  Let  me 
therefore  consider.  It  is  true,  that  the  annals  and  doc- 
uments in  my  hands  say  but  little  of  this  Highland  chase  ; 
but  then  I  can  find  copious  materials  for  description 
elsewhere.  There  is  old  Lindsay  of  Pitscottie  ready  at 
my  elbow,  with  his  Athole  hunting,  and  his  *'  lofted  and 
joisted  palace  of  green  timber ;  with  all  kind  of  drink 
to  be  had  in  burgh  and  land,  as  ale,  beer,  wine,  musca- 
del,  malvaise,  hippocras,  and  aquavitae  ;  with  wheat- 
bread,  main-bread,  ginge-bread,  beef,  mutton,  lamb, 
veal,  venison,  goose,  grice,  capon,  coney,  crane,  swan, 
partridge,  plover,  duck,  drake,  brissell-cock,  pawiiies, 
black-cock,  muir-fowl,  and  capercailzies  ;"  not  forget- 
ting the  "  costly  bedding,  vaiselle,  and  napry,"  and  least 
of  all  the  "  excelling  stewards,  cunning  baxters,  excel- 
lent cooks,  and  pottingars,  with  confections  and  drugs  for 
the  desserts."  Besides  the  particulars  which  may  be 
thence  gleaned  from  this  Highland  feast,  (the  splendour 
of  which  induced  the  Pope's  legate  to  dissent  from  an 
opinion  which  he  had  hitherto  held,  that  Scotland  name- 
ly was  the — the — the  latter  end  of  the  world) — besides 
these,  might  I  not  illuminate  my  pages  with  Taylor  the 
Water  Poet's  hunting  in  the  braes  of  Mar,  where, 

"  Throug-h  heather,  mosse,  'mong:  frogs,  and  bogs,  and  fogs, 

'Mongst  crag"gy  cliffs  and  thunder-battered  hills, 
Hares,  hinds,  bucks,  roes,  are  chased  by  men  and  dog's, 

Where  two  hours  hunting  fourscore  fat  deer  kills. 
Lowland,  your  spons  are  low  as  is  your  seat ; 

The  Highland  games  and  minds  are  high  and  great." 

But  without  further  tyranny  over  my  readers,  or  dis- 
play of  the  extent  of  my  own  reading,  I  shall  contont 
myself  with  borrowing  a  single  incident  from  the  mem- 
orable hunting   at    Lude,  commemorated  in  the   ingen- 


WAVE  RLE  Y.  171 

ious  Mr.  Gunn's  Essay  on  the  Caledonian  Harp,  and  so 
proceed  in  my  story  with  all  the  brevity  that  my  natural 
style  of  composition,  partaking  of  what  scholars  call  the 
periphrastic  and  ambagitory,  and  the  vulgar  the  circum- 
bendibus, will  permit  me. 

The  solemn  hunting  was  delayed,  from  various  caus- 
es, for  about  tliree  weeks.  The  interval  was  spent  by 
Wav^erley  with  great  satisfaction  at  Glennaquoich  ;  for 
the  impression  which  Flora  had  made  on  his  mind  at 
their  first  meeting^  grew  daily  stronger.  She  was  pre- 
cisely the  character  to  fascinate  a  youth  of  romantic 
imagination.  Her  manners,  her  language,  her  talents 
for  poetry  and  music,  gave  additional  and  varied  influ- 
ence to  her  eminent  personal  charms.  Even  in  her 
hours  of  gaiety,  she  was  in  his  fancy  exalted  above  the 
ordinary  daughters  of  Eve,  and  seemed  only  to  stoop 
for  an  instant  to  those  topics  of  amusement  and  gal- 
lantry which  others  appear  to  live  for.  In  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  this  enchantress,  while  sport  consumed  the 
morning,  and  music  and  the  dance  led  on  the  hours  of 
evening,  Waverley  became  daily  more  delighted  with 
his  hospitable  landlord,  and  more  enamoured  of  his  be- 
witching sister. 

At  length,  the  period  fixed  for  the  grand  hunting  ar- 
rived, and  Waverley  and  the  Chieftain  departed  for  the 
place  of  rendezvous,  which  was  a  day's  journey  to  the 
northward  of  Glennaquoich.  Fergus  was  attended  on  this 
occasion  by  about  three  hundred  of  his  clan,  well  armed, 
and  accoutred  in  their  best  fashion.  Waverley  complied 
so  far  with  the  custom  of  the  country  as  to  adopt  the 
trews,  (he  could  not  be  reconciled  to  the  kilt,)  brogues 
and  bonnet,  as  the  fittest  dress  for  the  exercise  in 
which  he  was  to  be  engaged,  and  which  least  ex- 
posed him  to  be  stared  at  as  a  stranger  when  they 
should  reach  the  place  of  rendezvous.  They  found,  on 
the  spot  appointed,  several  powerful  Chiefs,  to  all  of 
whom  Waverley  w^as  formally  presented,  and  by  all 
cordially  received.  Their  vassals  and  clansmen,  a  parr 
of  whose  feudal  duty  it  was  to  attend  upon  such  parties, 


172 


WAVERLEY 


appeared  in  such  numbers  as  amounted  to  a  small  army. 
These  active  assistants  spread  through  the  country  far 
and  near,  forming  a  circle,  technically  called  the  tinchel, 
which,  gradually  closing,  drove  the  deer  in  herds  to- 
gether towards  the  glen  where  the  Chiefs  and  princi- 
pal  sportsmen  lay  in  wait  for  them.  In  the  meanwhile, 
these  distinguished  personages  bivouacked  among  the 
flowery  heath,  wrapped  up  in  their  plaids  ;  a  mode  of 
passing  a  summer's  night  which  Waverley  found  by  no 
means  unpleasant. 

For  many  hours  after  sunrise,  the  mountain  ridges 
and  passes  retained  their  ordinary  appearance  of  si- 
lence and  solitude,  and  the  Chiefs,  with  their  followers, 
amused  themselves  with  various  pastimes,  in  which  the 
joys  of  the  shell,  as  Ossian  has  it,  were  not  forgotten. 
*'  Others  apart  sate  on  a  hill  retired ;"  probably  as 
deeply  engaged  in  the  discussion  of  politics  and  news, 
as  Milton's  spirits  in  metaphysical  disquisition.  At 
length  signals  of  the  approach  of  the  game  were  des- 
cried and  heard.  Distant  shouts  resounded  from  valley 
to  valley,  as  the  various  parties  of  Highlanders,  climb- 
ing rocks,  struggling  through  copses,  wading  brooks,  and 
traversing  thickets,  approached  more  and  more  near  to 
each  other,  and  compelled  the  astonished  deer,  with  the 
other  wild  animals  that  fled  before  them,  into  a  narrow 
circuit.  Every  now  and  then  the  report  of  muskets  was 
lieard,  repeated  by  a  thousand  echoes.  The  baying  of 
the  dogs  was  soon  added  to  the  chorus,  which  grew  ever 
louder  and  more  loud.  At  length  the  advanced  parties 
of  the  deer  began  to  show  themselves,  and  as  the  strag- 
glers came  bounding  down  the  pass  by  two  or  three  at 
a  time,  the  Chiefs  showed  their  skill  by  distinguishing 
the  fattest  deer,  and  their  dexterity  in  bringing  them 
down  with  their  guns.  Fergus  exhibited  remarkable  ad- 
dress, and  Edward  was  also  so  fortunate  as  to  attract  the 
notice  and  applause  of  the  sportsmen. 

But  now  the  main  body  of  the  deer  appeared  at  the 
head  of  the  glen,  compelled  into  a  very  narrow  com- 
pass, and  presenting  such   a   formidable  phalanx,  that 


WAVERLEY 


173 


their  antlers  appeared  at  a  distance  over  the  ridge  of 
the  steep  pass  like  a  leafless  grove.  Their  number  was 
very  great,  and  from  a  desperate  stand  which  they  made, 
with  the  tallest  of  the  red-deer  stags  arranged  in  front, 
iu  a  sort  of  battle  array,  gazing  on  the  group  which  bar- 
red their  passage  down  the  glen,  the  more  experienced 
sportsmen  began  to  augur  danger.  The  work  of  de- 
struction, however,  now  commenced  on  all  sides.  Dogs 
and  hunters  were  at  work,  and  muskets  and  fusees  re- 
sounded from  every  quarter.  The  deer,  driven  to  des- 
peration, made  at  length  a  fearful  charge  right  upon  the 
spot  where  the  more  distinguished  sportsmen  had  taken 
their  stand.  The  word  was  given  in  Gaehc  to  fling  them- 
selves upon  their  faces;  but  Waverley,upon  whose  English 
ears  the  signal  was  lost,  had  almost  fallen  a  sacrifice  to  his 
ignorance  of  the  ancient  language  in  which  it  was  com- 
municated. Fergus,  observing  his  danger,  sprung  up 
and  pulled  him  with  violence  to  the  ground  just  as  the 
whole  herd  broke  down  upon  them.  The  tide  being 
absolutely  irresistible,  and  wounds  from  a  stag's  horn 
highly  dangerous,  the  activity  of  the  Chieftain  may  be 
considered,  on  this  occasion,  as  having  saved  his  guest's 
life.  He  detained  him  with  a  firm  grasp  until  the  whole 
herd  of  deer  had  fairly  run  over  them.  Waverley  thea 
attempted  to  rise,  but  found  that  he  had  suffered  several 
very  severe  contusions,  and  upon  a  farther  examination 
discovered  that  he  had  sprained  his  ancle  violently. 

This  checked  the  rnirth  of  the  meeting,  although  the 
Highlanders,  accustomed  to  such  incidents,  and  prepar- 
ed for  them,  had  suffered  no  harm  themselves.  A  wig- 
wam was  erected  almost  in  an  instant,  where  Edward 
was  deposited  on  a  couch  of  heather.  The  surgeon,  or 
he  who  assumed  the  office,  appeared  to  unite  the  charac- 
ters of  a  leech  and  a  conjuror.  He  v/as  an  old  smoke- 
dried  Highlander,  wearing  a  venerable  grey  beard,  and 
having  for  his  sole  garment  a  tartan  frock,  the  skirts  of 
which  descended  to  the  knee,  and,  being  undivided  in 
front,  made  the  vestment   serve  at  once  for  doublet  and 

15*       VOL.    1. 


174  WAVERLEY. 

breeches.  He  observed  great  ceremony  in  approaching 
Edward  ;  and  though  our  hero  was  writhing  with  pain, 
would  not  proceed  to  any  operation  which  would  as- 
suage it  until  he  had  perambulated  his  couch  three  times, 
moving  from  east  to  west,  according  to  the  course  of 
the  sun.  This,  which  was  called  making  the  deasil,  both 
the  leech  and  the  assistants  seemed  to  consider  as  a 
matter  of  the  last  importance  to  the  accomplishment  of 
a  cure  ;  and  Edward,  whom  pain  rendered  incapable  of 
expostulation,  and  who  indeed  saw  no  chance  of  its 
being  attended  to,  submitted  in  silence. 

After  this  ceremony  was  duly  performed,  the  old 
Esculapius  let  Edward  blood  with  a  cupping-glass  with 
great  dexterity,  and  proceeded,  muttering  all  the  while 
to  himself  in  Gaelic,  to  boil  upon  the  fire  certain  herbs, 
with  which  he  compounded  an  embrocation.  He  then 
fomented  the  parts  which  had  sustained  injury,  never 
failing  to  murmur  prayers  or  spells,  which  of  the  two 
Waverley  could  not  distinguish,  as  his  ear  only  caught 
the  words  Gasper-Melchior-Balthazar-max-prax-fax, 
and  similar  gibberish.  The  fomentation  had  a  speedy 
effect  in  alleviating  the  pain  and  swelling,  which  our 
hero  imputed  to  the  virtue  of  the  herbs,  or  the  effect  of 
the  chafing,  but  which  was  by  the  bystanders  unanimously 
ascribed  to  the  spells  with  which  the  operation  had  been 
accompanied.  Edward  was  given  to  understand,  that 
not  one  of  the  ingredients  had  been  gathered  except 
during  the  full  moon,  and  that  the  herbalist  had,  w-hile 
collecung  them,  uniformly  recited  a  charm,  which,  in 
English,  ran  thus  ; 

Hail  to  thee,  thou  holy  herb, 
That  sprung  on  holy  ground  ! 
All  in  the  Mount  Olivet 
First  v/ert  ihou  found  ; 
Thou  art  boot  for  many  a  bruise 
And  healest  many  a  wound  ; 
In  our  Lady's  blessed  name, 
I  take  thee  from  the  ground. 


WAYEBLEY.  1  <  D 

Edward  observed,  with  some  surprise,  that  even  Fer- 
gus, notwithstanding  his  knowledge  and  education,  s(H  '■:■-■ 
ed  to  fall  in  with  the  superstitious  ideas  of  his  countrymen, 
either  because  he  deemed  it  impohtic  to  affect  scepticism 
on  a  matter  of  general  belief,  or  more  probably  because, 
hke  most  men  who  do  not  think  deeply  or  accurately  on 
such  subjects,  he  had  in  his  mind  a  reserve  of  supersti- 
tion which  balanced  the  freedom  of  his  expressions  and 
practice  upon  other  occasions.  Waverley  made  no  com- 
mentary, therefore,  on  the  manner  of  the  treatment,  but 
rewarded  the  professor  of  medicine  with  a  liberahty  be- 
yond the  utmost  conception  of  his  wildest  hopes.  He 
uttered,  on  the  occasion,  so  many  incoherent  blessings 
in  Gaelic  and  English,  that  ^lac-Ivor,  rather  scandalized 
at  the  excess  of  his  acknowledgments,  cut  them  short, 
by  exclaiming,  C'eud  mile  mhaUoich  ort !  i.e.  "A  hun- 
dred thousand  curses  on  you  !"  and  so  pushed  the  helper 
of  men  out  of  the  cabin. 

After  Waverley  was  left  alone,  the  exhaustion  of  pain 
and  fatigue — for  the  whole  day's  exercise  had  been  se- 
vere— threw  him  into  a  profound,  but  yet  a  feverish  sleep, 
which  he  chiedy  owed  to  an  opiate  draught  administered 
by  the  old  Highlander,  from  some  decoction  of  herbs  in 
his  pharmacopeia. 

Early  the  next  morning,  the  purpose  of  their  meeting 
being  over,  and  their  sports  blanked  by  the  untoward 
accident,  in  which  Fergus  and  all  his  friends  expressed 
the  greatest  sympathy,  it  became  a  question  how  to  dis- 
pose of  the  disabled  sportsman.  This  was  Settled  by 
Mac-Ivor,  who  had  a  litter  prepared,  of  "  birch  and 
hazel  grey,"  which- was  borne  by  his  people  with  such 
caution  and  dexterity  as  renders  it  not  improbable  that 
they  may  have  been  the  ancestors  of  some  of  those  sturdy 
Gael  who  have  now  the  happiness  to  transport  the  belies 
of  Edinburgh  in  their  sedan-chairs,  to  ten  routes  in  one 
evening.  When  Edward  was  elevated  upon  their  shoul- 
ders, he  could  not  help  beina;  gratified  with  the  romantic 
effect  produced  by  thfr  l'reH'<ifi?:  np  of  this  sylvan  camp. 


176  WAVERLEY. 

The  various  tribes  assembled,  each  at  the  pibroch  of 
their  native  clan,  and  each  headed  by  their  patriarchal 
ruler.  Some,  who  had  already  begun  to  retire,  were 
seen  winding  up  the  hills,  or  descending  the  passes  which 
led  to  the  scene  of  action,  the  sound  of  the  bagpipes 
dying  upon  the  ear.  Others  made  still  a  moving  picture 
upon  the  narrow  plain,  forming  various  changeful  groups, 
their  feathers  and  loose  plaids  waving  in  the  morning 
breeze,  and  their  arms  glittering  in  the  rising  sun.  Most 
of  their  chiefs  came  to  take  farewell  of  Waverley,  and 
to  express  their  anxious  hope  they  might  again,  and 
speedily,  meet ;  but  the  care  of  Fergus  abridged  the  cer- 
emonies of  taking  leave.  At  length,  his  own  men  being 
completely  assembled  and  mustered,  Mac-Ivor  commenc- 
ed his  march,  but  not  towards  the  quarter  from  which 
they  had  come.  He  gave  Waverley  to  understand,  that 
the  greater  part  of  his  followers,  now  on  the  field,  were 
bound  upon  a  distant  expedition,  and  that  when  he  had 
deposited  Waverley  in  the  house  of  a  gentleman,  who  he 
was  sure  would  pay  him  every  attention,  he  himself 
would  be  under  the  necessity  of  accompanying  them  the 
greater  part  of  the  way,  but  would  lose  no  time  in  re- 
joining his  fi-iend. 

Waverley  was  rather  surprised  that  Fergus  had  not 
mentioned  this  ulterior  destination  when  they  set  out 
upon  the  hunting-party  ;  but  his  situation  did  not  admit 
of  many  interrogations.  The  greater  part  of  the  clans- 
men went  forward  under  the  guidance  of  old  Ballen- 
keiroch,  and  Evan  Dhu  Maccombich,  apparently  in  high 
spirits.  A  few  remained  for  the  purpose  of  escorting 
the  Chieftain,  who  walked  by  the  side  of  Edward's  litter, 
and  attended  him  with  the  most  affectionate  assiduity. 
About  noon,  after  a  journey  which  the  nature  of  the 
conveyance,  the  pain  of  his  bruises,  and  the  roughness  of 
the  v/ay,  rendered  inexpressibly  painful,  Waverley  was 
hospitably  received  in  the  house  of  a  gentleman  related 
to  Fergus,  who  had  prepared  for  him  every  accommo- 
dation which  the  simple  habits  of  living  then  universal 
in  the  Highlands,  put  in  his  power.       In  this  person,  an 


WAVERLEY.  177 

old  man  about  seventy,  Edward  admired  a  relic  of  prim- 
itive simplicity.  He  wore  no  dress  but  what  his  estate 
afforded  ;  the  cloth  was  the  fleece  of  his  own  sheep, 
woven  by  his  own  servants,  and  stained  into  tartan  by 
the  dyes  produced  from  the  herbs  and  lichens  of  the 
hills  around  him.  His  linen  was  spun  by  his  daughters 
and  maid-servants,  from  his  own  flax,  nor  did  his  table, 
though  plentiful,  and  varied  with  game  and  fish,  ofier  an 
article  but  what  w^as  of  native  produce. 

Claiming  himself  no  rights  of  clanship  or  vassalage, 
he  was  fortunate  in  the  alliance  and  protection  of  Vich 
Ian  Vohr,  and  other  bold  and  enterprizing  chieftains,  who 
protected  him  in  the  quiet  unambitious  hfe  he  loved.  It 
is  true,  the  youth  born  on  his  grounds  were  often  enticed 
to  leave  him  for  the  service  of  his  more  active  friends  ; 
but  a  few  old  servants  and  tenants  used  to  shake  their 
grey  locks  when  they  heard  their  master  censured  for 
want  of  spirit,  and  observed,  "  When  the  wind  is  still, 
the  shower  falls  soft."  This  good  old  man,  whose  char- 
ity and  hospitality  were  unbounded,  would  have  received 
Waverley  with  kindness,  had  he  been  the  meanest  Saxon 
peasant,  since  his  situation  required  assistance.  But  his 
attention  to  a  friend  and  guest  of  Vich  Ian  Vohr  was 
anxious  and  unremitted.  Other  embrocations  v/ere  ap- 
plied to  the  injured  limb,  and  new  spells  w'ere  put  in 
practice.  At  length,  after  more  solicitude  than  was  per- 
haps for  the  advantage  of  his  health,  Fergus  took  fare- 
well of  Waverley  for  a  few  days,  when,  he  said,  he 
would  return  to  Tomanrait,  and  hoped  by  that  time  Wa- 
verley would  be  able  to  ride  one  of  the  Highland  ponies 
of  his  host,  and  in  that  manner  return  to  Glennaquoich. 

The  next  day,  when  his  good  old  host  appeared,  Ed- 
ward learned  that  his  friend  had  departed  with  dawn, 
leaving  none  of  his  attendants,  except  Galium  Beg,  the 
sort  of  foot-page  who  used  to  attend  his  person,  and  who 
had  now  in  charge  to  wait  upon  Waverley.  On  asking 
his  host,  if  he  knew  where  the  Chieftain  was  gone  ^  the 
old  man  looked  fixedly  at  him,  with  something  mysterious 
and  sad  in  the  smile  which  w^as  his  only  reply.     Waver- 


178  WAVERLEY- 

ley  repeated  his  question,  to  which  his  host  answered  in 
a  proverb, — 

"  What  sent  the  messengers  to  hell, 
Was  asking  that  they  knew  full  well." 

He  was  about  to  proceed,  but  Galium  Beg  said,  rather 
pertly  as  Edward  thought,  that  "  Ta  Tighearnach,  (i.  e. 
the  Chief)  did  not  like  ta  Sassenagh  Duinhe-wassal  to 
be  pingled  wV  mickle  speaking,  as  she  was  na  tat  weil." 
From  this  Waverley  concluded  he  should  disoblige  his 
friend  by  inquiring  at  a  stranger  the  object  of  a  journey, 
w^hich  he  himself  had  not  communicated. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  trace  the  progress  of  our  hero's 
recovery.  The  sixth  morning  had  arrived,  and  he  was 
able  to  walk  about  with  a  staff,  when  Fergus  returned 
with  about  a  score  of  his  men.  He  seemed  in  the  high- 
est spirits,  congratulated  Waverley  on  his  progress  to- 
wards recovery,  and  finding  he  w^as  able  to  sit  upon 
horseback,  proposed  their  immediate  return  to  Glenna- 
quoich.  Waverley  joyfully  acceded,  for  the  form  of  its 
fair  mistress  had  Hved  in  his  dreams  during  all  the  time 
of  his  confinement. 

Now  he  has  ridden  o'er  moor  and  moss, 
O'er  hill  and  many  a  glen. 

Fergus  all  the  while,  with  his  myrmidons,  striding  stoutly 
by  his  side,  or  diverging  to  get  a  shot  at  a  roe  or  a  heath- 
cock.  Waverley's  bosom  beat  thick  when  they  approach- 
ed the  old  tower  of  Ian  nan  Chaistel,  and  could  distin- 
guish the  fair  form  of  its  mistress  advancing  to  meet 
them. 

Fergus  began  immediately,  w  ith  his  usual  high  spirits, 
to  exclaim,  "  Open  your  gates,  incomparable  princess, 
to  the  wounded  Moor  Abindarez,  whom  Rodrigo  de 
Narvez,  constable  of  Antiquera,  conveys  to  your  castle  ; 
or  open  them,  if  you  like  it  better,  to  the  renowned  Mar- 
quis of  Mantua,  the  sad  attendant  of  his  half-slain  friend, 
Baldovinos  of  the  mountain. — Ah,  long  rest  to  thy  soul, 


WAVE  RLE  Y.  179 

Cervantes  !  without  quoting  thy  remnants,  how  should  I 
frame  my  language  to  befit  romantic  ears  !" 

Flora  now  advanced,  and  welcoming  Waverley  with 
much  kindness,  expressed  her  regret  for  his  accident,  of 
which  she  had  already  heard  particulars,  and  her  surprise 
that  her  brother  should  not  have  taken  better  care  to  put 
a  stranger  on  his  guard  against  the  perils  of  the  sport  in 
which  he  engaged  him.  Edward  easily  exculpated  the 
Chieftain,  who,  indeed  at  his  own  personal  risk,  had 
probably  saved  his  life. 

This  greeting  over,  Fergus  said  three  or  four  words  to 
his  sister  in  Gaelic.  The  tears  instantly  sprung  to  her 
eyes,  but  they  seemed  to  be  tears  of  devotion  or  joy,  for 
she  looked  up  to  heaven,  and  folded  her  hands  as  in  a 
solemn  expression  of  prayer  or  gratitude.  After  the 
pause  of  a  minute,  she  presented  to  Edward  some  letters 
which  had  been  forwarded  from  Tully-Veolan  during  his 
absence,  and  at  the  same  time,  delivered  some  to  her 
brother.  To  the  latter  she  likewise  gave  three  or  four 
numbers  of  the  Caledonian  Mercury,  the  only  newspaper 
which  was  then  published  to  tbe  north  of  the  Tweed. 

Both  gentlemen  retired  to  examine  their  despatches, 
and  Edward  speedily  found  that  those  which  he  had  re- 
ceived contained  matters  of  \ery  deep  interest. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

JVews  from  England, 

The  letters  which  Waverley  had  hitherto  received 
from  his  relations  in  England,  were  not  such  as  required 
any  particular  notice  in  this  narrative.  His  father  usually 
wrote  to  him  with  the  pompous  affectation  of  one  who 
was  too  much  oppressed  by  public  affairs  to  find  leisure 
to  attend  to  those  of  his  own  family.     Now  and  then  he 


180  WAVERLEY. 

mentioned  persons  of  rank  in  Scotland  to  whom  he  could 
wish  his  son  should  pay  some  attention  ;  but  Waverley, 
hitherto  occupied  by  the  amusements  which  he  had  found 
at  Tully-Veolan  and  Glennaquoich,  dispensed  with  pay- 
ing any  attention  to  hints  so  coldly  thrown  out,  especially 
as  distance,  shortness  of  leave  of  absence,  and  so  forth, 
furnished  a  ready  apology.  But  latterly  the  burthen  of 
Mr.  Richard  Waverley's  paternal  epistles  consisted  in 
certain  mysterious  hints  of  greatness  and  influence  which 
he  was  speedily  to  attain,  and  which  would  insure  his 
son's  obtaining  the  most  rapid  promotion,  should  he  re- 
main in  the  military  service.  Sir  Everard's  letters  were 
of  a  different  tenor.  They  were  short  ;  for  the  good 
Baronet  was  none  of  yonr  illimitable  correspondents, 
whose  manuscript  overflows  the  folds  of  their  large  post 
paper,  and  leaves  no  room  for  the  seal  ;  but  they  were 
kind  and  affectionate,  and  seldom  concluded  without  some 
allusion  to  our  hero's  steed,  some  question  about  the 
state  of  his  purse,  and  a  special  inquiry  after  such  of 
his  recruits  as  had  preceded  him  from  Waverley-Honour. 
Aunt  Rr.chael  charged  him  to  remember  his  principles 
of  reli2;ion,  to  take  care  of  his  health,  to  beware  of 
Scotch  mists,  which,  she  had  heard,  would  wet  an  Eng- 
lishman to  the  skin  ;  never  to  go  out  at  night  without  his 
great-coat ;  and,  above  all,  to  wear  flannel  near  his  skin. 
Mr.  Pembroke  only  wrote  to  our  hero  one  letter,  but 
it  was  of  the  bulk  of  six  epistles  of  these  degenerate 
days,  containing,  in  the  moderate  compass  of  ten  folio 
pages,  closely  written,  a  precis  of  a  supplementary  quarto 
manuscript  of  addenda  delenda,  et  corrigenda,  in  refer- 
ence to  the  two  tracts  with  which  he  had  presented  Wa- 
verley. This  he  considered  as  a  mere  sop  in  the  pan  to 
stay  the  appetite  of  Edward's  curiosity,  until  he  should 
find  an  opportunity  of  sending  down  the  volume  itself, 
which  was  much  too  heavy  for  the  post,  and  which  he 
proposed  to  accompany  with  certain  interesting  pam-' 
phlets,  lately  published  by  his  friend  in  Little-Britain, 
with  whom  he  had  kept  up  a  sort  of  literary  correspon- 
dence, in  virtue  of  which  the  hbrary  shelves  of  Waver- 


WAVERLBT.  181 

ley-Honour  were  loaded  with  much  trash,  and  a  good 
round  bill,  seldom  summed  in  fewer  than  three  figures, 
was  yearly  transmitted,  in  which  Sir  Everard  Waverley 
of  Waverley-Honour,  Bart,  was  marked  Dr.  to  .Jona- 
than Grubbet,  bookseller  and  stationer,  Little-Britain. 
Such  had  hitherto  been  the  style  of  the  letters  which 
Edward  had  received  from  England  ;  but  the  packet 
dehvered  to  him  at  Glennaquoich  was  of  a  different  and 
more  interesting  complexion,  it  would  be  impossible 
for  the  reader,  even  were  I  to  insert  the  letters  at  full 
length,  to  comprehend  the  real  cause  of  their  being  writ- 
ten, without  a  glance  into  the  interior  of  the  British  Cab- 
inet at  the  period  in  question. 

The  ministers  of  the  day  happened  (no  very  singular 
event)  to  be  divided  into  two  parties  ;  the  weakest  of 
which,  making  up  by  assiduity  of  intrigue  their  inferior- 
ity in  real  consequence,  had  of  late  acquired  some  new 
proselytes,  and  with  them  the  hope  of  superseding  their 
rivals  in  the  favour  of  their  sovereign,  and  overpowering 
them  in  the  House  of  Commons.  Amongst  others,  they 
had  thought  it  worth  while  to  practise  upon  Richard 
Waverley.  This  honest  gentleman,  by  a  grave  myste- 
rious demeanour,  an  attention  to  the  etiquette  of  business, 
as  well  as  to  its  essence,  a  facility  in  making  long  dull 
speeches,  consisting  of  truisms  and  common-places,  hash- 
ed up  with  a  technical  jargon  of  office,  which  prevented 
the  inanity  of  his  orations  from  being  discovered,  had 
acquired  a  certain  name  and  credit  in  public  life,  and 
even  established,  with  many,  the  character  of  a  profound 
politician  ;  none  of  your  shining  orators,  indeed,  whose 
talents  evaporate  in  tropes  of  rhetoric  and  flashes  of  wit, 
but  one  possessed  of  steady  parts  for  business,  which 
would  wear  well,  as  the  ladies  say  in  choosing  their  silks, 
and  ought  in  all  reason  to  be  good  for  common  and 
every-day  use,  since  they  were  confessedly  formed  of 
no  holiday  texture. 

This  faith  had  become  so  general,  that  the  insurgent 
party  in  the  cabinet  of  which   we  have    made  mention, 

16       VOL.    I. 


182  WAVERLET. 

after  sounding  Mr.  Richard  Waverley,  were  so  satisfied 
witli  his  sentiments  and  abihiies,  as  to  propose,  that,  in 
case  of  a  certain  revolution  in  the  ministry,  he  should 
take  an  ostensible  place  in  the  new  order  of  things,  not 
indeed  of  the  very  first  rank,  but  greatly  higher,  in  point 
both  of  emolument  and  influence,  than  that  which  he 
now  enjoyed.  There  was  no  resisting  so  tempting  a 
proposal,  notwithstanding  that  the  Great  Man,  under 
whose  patronage  he  had  enlisted,  and  by  whose  banner 
he  had  hitherto  stood  firm,  was  the  principal  object  of 
the  proposed  attack  by  the  new  allies.  Unfortunately, 
this  fair  scheme  of  ambition  was  blighted  in  the  very, 
bud,  by  a  premature  movement.  AW  the  official  gen- 
tlemen concerned  in  it,  who  hesitated  to  take  the  part  of 
a  voluntary  resignation,  were  informed  that  the  king  had 
no  farther  occasion  for  their  services  ;  and,  in  Richard 
Waverley's  case,  which  the  minister  considered  as  ag- 
gravated by  ingratitude,  dismissal  was  accompanied  by 
something  like  personal  contempt  and  contumely.  The 
public,  and  even  the  party  of  whom  he  shared  the  fall, 
sympathized  little  in  the  disappointment  of  this  selfish 
and  interested  statesman  ;  and  he  retired  to  the  country 
under  the  comfortable  reflection,  that  he  had  lost,  at  the 
same  time,  character,  credit,  and, — what  he  at  least 
equally  deplored, — emolument. 

Richard  Waverley's  letter  to  his  son  upon  this  occa- 
sion was  a  masterpiece  of  its  kind.  Aristides  himself 
could  not  have  made  out  a  harder  case.  An  unjust 
monarch,  and  an  ungrateful  country,  were  the  burthen 
of  each  rounded  paragraph.  He  spoke  of  long  services, 
and  unrequited  sacrifices,  though  the  former  had  been 
overpaid  by  his  salary,  and  nobody  could  guess  in  what 
the  latter  consisted,  unless  it  were  in  his  deserting,  not 
from  conviction,  but  for  the  lucre  of  gain,  the  tory  prin- 
ciples of  his  family.  In  the  conclusion,  his  resentment 
was  wrought  to  such  an  excess  by  the  force  of  his  own 
oratory,  that  he  could  not  repress  some  threats  of  ven- 
geance, however  vague  and  impotent,  and  finally  ac- 
quainted his  son  with  his  pleasure  that  he  should    testify 


WAVERLET.  183 

his  sense  of  the  ill  treatment  he  had  sustained,  by  throw- 
ing up  his  commission  as  soon  as  the  letter  reached  him. 
This,  he  said,  was  also  his  uncle's  desire,  as  he  would 
himself  intimate  in  due  course. 

Accordingly,  the  next  letter  which  Edward  opened, 
was  from  Sir  Everard.  His  brother's  disgrace  seemed 
to  have  removed  from  his  well-natured  bosom  all  recol- 
lection of  their  differences  ;  and,  remote  as  he  was  from 
every  means  of  learning  that  Richard's  disgrace  was  in 
reality  only  the  just,  as  well  as  natural  consequence  of 
his  own  unsuccessful  intrigues,  the  good,  but  credulous 
Baronet,  at  once  set  it  down  as  a  new  and  enormous  in- 
stance of  the  injustice  of  the  existing  government.  It 
was  true,  he  said,  and  he  must  not  disguise  it  even  from 
Edward,  that  his  father  could  not  have  sustained  such  an 
insult  as  was  now,  for  the  first  time,  offered  to  one  of  his 
house,  unless  he  had  subjected  himself  to  it  by  accepting 
of  an  employment  under  the  present  system.  Sir  Ever- 
ard had  no  doubt  that  he  now  both  saw  and  felt  the  mag- 
nitude of  this  error,  and  it  should  be  his  (Sir  Everard's) 
business,  to  take  care  that  the  cause  of  his  regret  should 
not  extend  itself  to  pecuniary  consequences.  It  was 
enough  for  a  Waverley  to  have  sustained  the  public  dis- 
grace ;  the  patrimonial  injury  could  easily  be  obviated 
by  the  head  of  their  family.  But  it  was  both  the  opinion 
of  Mr.  Richard  Waverley  and  his  own,  that  Edward, 
the  representative  of  the  family  of  Waverley-Honour, 
should  not  remain  in  a  situation  which  subjected  him  also 
to  such  treatment  as  that  with  which  his  father  had  been 
stigmatized.  He  requested  his  nephew  therefore  to  take 
the  fittest,  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  most  speedy  op- 
portunity, of  transmitting  his  resignation  to  the  War- 
Office,  and  hinted,  moreover,  that  little  ceremony  was 
necessary  where  so  little  had  been  used  to  his  father. 
He  sent  multitudinous  greetings  to  the  Baron  of  Brad- 
wardine. 

A  letter  from  aunt  Rachael  spoke  out  even  more  plain- 
1} .  She  considered  the  disgrace  of  brother  Richard  as 
the  just  reward  of  his  forfeiting:  his  alleg;iance  to  a  lawful, 


184  WAVERLEY. 

though  exiled  sovereign,  and  taking  the  oaths  to  an  alien; 
a  concession  which  her  grandfather,  Sir  Nigel  Waverley, 
refused  to  make,  either  to  the  Round-head  ParHament  or 
to  Cromwell,  when  his  life  and  fortune  stood  in  the  ut- 
most extremity.  She  hoped  her  dear  Edward  would 
follow  the  footsteps  of  his  ancestors,  and  as  speedily  as 
possible  get  rid  of  the  badge  of  servitude  to  the  usurp- 
ing family,  and  regard  the  wrongs  sustained  by  his  father 
as  an  admonition  from  Heaven,  that  every  desertion  of 
the  line  of  loyalty  becomes  its  own  punishment."  She 
also  concluded  with  her  respects  to  Mr.  Bradwardine, 
and  begged  VVaverley  would  inform  her  whether  his 
daughter.  Miss  Rose,  was  old  enough  to  wear  a  pair  of 
very  handsome  ear-rings,  which  she  proposed  to  send  as 
a  token  of  her  affection.  The  good  lady  also  desired  to 
be  informed  whether  Mr.  Bradwardine  took  as  much 
Scotch  snuff,  and  danced  as  unweariedly,  as  he  did  when 
he  was  at  Waverley-Honour  about  thirty  years  ago. 

These  letters,  as  might  have  been  expected,  highly 
excited  Waverley's  indignation.  From  the  desultory 
style  of  his  studies,  he  had  not  any  fixed  pohtical  opinion 
to  place  in  opposition  to  the  movements  of  indignation 
v/hich  he  felt  at  his  father's  supposed  wrongs.  Of  the 
real  cause  of  his  disgrace,  Edward  was  totally  ignorant ; 
nor  had  his  habits  at  all  led  him  to  investigate  the  politics 
of  the  period  in  which  he  lived,  or  remark  the  intrigues 
in  which  his  father  had  been  so  actively  engaged.  In- 
deed, any  impressions  which  he  had  accidentally  adopted 
concerning  the  parties  of  the  times,  were  (owing  to  the 
society  in  which  he  had  lived  at  Waverley-Honour,)  of 
a  nature  rather  unfavourable  to  the  existing  government 
and  dynasty.  He  entered,  therefore,  without  heshation, 
into  the  resentful  feehng  of  the  relations  who  had  the 
best  title  to  dictate  his  conduct  ;  and  not  perhaps  the 
less  wilhngly  when  he  remembered  the  tsedium  of  his 
quarters,  and  the  inferior  figure  which  he  had  made 
among  the  officers  of  his  regiment.  If  he  could  have 
had  any  doubt  upon  the  subject,  it  would  have  been  de- 


vWAVERIiEY.  185 

cided  by  the  following  letter  from  his   commanding  offi- 
cer, which,  as  it  is  very  short,  shall  be  inserted  verbatim  : 

"  Sir, 
"  Having  carried  somewhat  beyond  the  line  of  my 
duty,  an  indulgence  which  even  the  lights  of  nature,  and 
much  more  those  of  Christianity,  direct  towards  errors 
which  may  arise  from  youth  and  inexperience,  and  that 
altogether  without  effect,  1  am  reluctantly  compelled,  at 
the  present  crisis,  to  use  the  only  remaining  remedy  which 
is  in  my  power.  You  are,  therefore,  hereby  command- 
ed to  repair  to  — — ,  the  head-quarters  of  the  regiment, 
within  three  days  after  the  date  of  this  letter.  If  you 
shall  fail  to  do  so,  I  must  report  you  to  the  War-Office 
as  absent  without  leave,  and  also  take  other  steps,  which 
will  be  disagreeable  to  you,  as  well  as  to, 

''  Sir, 
*'  Your  obedient  Servant, 

"  J.  G ,  Lieut.  Col. 

"  Commanding  the Regt.  Dragoons." 

Edward's  blood  boiled  within  him  as  he  read  this  let- 
ter. He  had  been  accustomed  from  his  very  infancy  to 
possess,  in  a  great  measure,  the  disposal  of  his  own  time, 
and  thus  acquired  habits  which  rendered  the  rules  of 
military  discipline  as  unpleasing  to  him  in  this  as  they 
were  in  some  other  respects.  An  idea  that  in  his  own 
case  they  would  not  be  enforced  in  a  very  rigid  manner, 
had  also  obtained  full  possession  of  his  mind,  and  had 
hitherto  been  sanctioned  by  the  indulgent  conduct  of  his 
lieutenant-colonel.  Neither  had  any  thing  occurred,  to 
his  knowledge,  that  should  have  induced  his  command- 
iig  officer,  without  any  other  warning  than  the  hints  we 
noticed  at  the  end  of  the  fourteenth  chapter,  so  sudden- 
ly to  assume  a  harsh,  and,  as  Edward  deemed  it,  so  inso- 
lent a  tone  of  dictatorial  authority.  Connecting  it  with 
the  letters  he  had  just  received  from  his  family,  he  could 
not  but  suppose,  that  it  was  designed  to  make  Wim  feel, 

16*       VOL.    I. 


186  WAVERIEY. 

in  his  present  situation,  the  same  pressure  of  authority 
which  had  been  exercised  in  his  father's  case,  and  that 
the  whole  was  a  concerted  scheme  to  depress  and  de- 
grade every  member  of  the  Waverley  family. 

Without  a  pause,  therefore,  Edward  wrote  a  few  cold 
lines,  thanking  his  heutenant-colonel  for  past  civilities, 
and  expressing  regret  that  he  should  have  chosen  to 
efface  the  remembrance  of  them,  by  assuming  a  different 
tone  towards  him.  The  strain  of  his  letter,  as  well  as 
what  he  (Edward)  conceived  to  be  his  duty,  in  the  pres- 
ent crisis,  called  upon  him  to  lay  down  his  commission  ; 
and  he  therefore  enclosed  the  formal  resignation  of  a 
situation  which  subjected  him  to  so  unpleasant  a  corres- 
pondence,  and   requested    Colonel   G would   have 

the  goodness  to  forward  it  to  the  proper  authorities. 

Having  finished  this  magnanimous  epistle,  he  felt  some- 
what uncertain  concerning  the  terms  in  which  his  resig- 
nation ought  to  be  expressed,  upon  which  subject  he  re- 
solved to  consult  Fergus  Mac-Ivor.  It  may  be  observed', 
in  passing,  that  the  bold  and  prompt  habits  of  thinking, 
acting,  and  speaking,  which  distinguished  this  young 
Chieftain,  had  given  him  a  considerable  ascendancy  over 
the  mind  of  Waverley.  Endowed  with  at  least  equal 
powers  of  understanding,  and  with  much  finer  genius, 
Edward  yet  stooped  to  the  bold  and  decisive  activity  of 
an  intellect  which  was  sharpened  by  the  habit  of  acting 
on  a  preconceived  and  regular  system,  as  well  as  by  ex- 
tensive knowledge  of  the  world. 

When  Edward  found  his  friend,  the  latter  had  still  in 
his  hand  the  newspaper  which  he  had  perused,  and  ad- 
vanced to  meet  him  with  the  embarrassment  of  one  who 
has  disagreeable  news  to  communicate.  *'  Do  your  let- 
ters. Captain  Waverley,  confirm  the  unpleasing  informa- 
tion which  i  find  in  this  paper  ?" 

He  put  the  paper  into  his  hand,  where  his  father's 
disgrace  was  registered  in  the  most  bitter  terms,  trans- 
ferred probably  from  some  London  journal.  At  the 
end  of  iiie  paragraph  was  this  remarkable  inuendo  : 


WAVERLEY.  187 

"  We  understand  that  '  this  same  Richard  who  hath 
done  all  this,'  is  not  the  only  example  of  the  Wavering 
Honour  of  W-v-r-ly  H-n-r.  See  the  Gazette  of  this 
day." 

With  hurried  and  feverish  apprehension  our  hero 
turned  to  the  place  referred  to,  and  found  therein  re- 
corded,  "  Edward  Waverley,  captain   in regiment 

dragoons,  superseded  for  absence  without  leave  ;"  and 
in  the  list  of  military  promotions,  referring  to  the  same 
regiment,  he  discovered  this  farther  article,  "  Lieut. 
Julius  Butler  to  be  captain,  vice  Edward  Waverley  su- 
perseded." 

Our  hero's  bosom  glowed  with  the  resentment  which 
undeserved  and  apparently  premeditated  insult  was  calcu- 
lated to  excite  in  the  bosom  of  one  who  had  aspired  af- 
ter honour,  and  was  thus  wantonly  held  up  to  public 
scorn  and  disgrace.  Upon  comparing  the  date  of  his 
colonel's  letter  with  that  of  the  article  in  the  Gazette,  he 
perceived  that  his  threat  of  making  a  report  upon  his  ab- 
sence had  been  literally  complied  vvith,  and  without  in- 
quiry, as  it  seemed,  whether  Eduard  had  either  receiv- 
ed his  summons,  or  was  disposed  to  comply  with  it. 
The  whole,  therefore,  appeared  a  formed  plan  to  de- 
grade him  in  the  eyes  of  the  public ;  and  the  idea  of 
its  have  succeeded  filled  him  with  such  bitter  emotions, 
that,  after  various  attempts  to  conceal  them,  he  at  length 
threw  himself  into  Mac-Ivor's  arms,  and  gave  vent  to 
tears  of  shame  and  indignation. 

It  was  none  of  this  Chieftain's  faults  to  be  indifierent 
to  the  wrongs  of  his  friends  ;  and  for  Edward,  indepen- 
dent of  certain  plans  with  which  he  was  connected,  he 
felt  a  deep  and  sincere  interest.  The  proceeding  ap- 
peared as  extraordinary  to  him  as  it  had  done  to  Ed- 
ward. He  indeed  knew  of  more  motives  than  Waver- 
ley was  privy  to  for  the  peremptory  order  that  he  should 
join  his  regiment.  But  that,  without  farther  inquiry 
into  the  circumstances  of  a  necessary  delay,  the  com- 
manding officer,  in  contradiction  to  his  known  and  estab- 
lished character,  should  have  proceeded  in  so  harsh  and 


188  WAVEKLEY. 

unusual  a  manner,  was  a  mystery  which  he  could  not 
penetrate.  He  soothed  our  hero,  however,  to  the  best 
of  his  power,  and  began  to  turn  his  thoughts  on  revenge 
for  his  insulted  honour. 

Edward    eagerly   grasped   at   the  idea.     "Will  you 

carry  a   message  for  me   to  Colonel  G ,  my  dear 

Fergus,  and  oblige  me  for  ever  ?" 

Fergus  paused.  "  It  is  an  act  of  friendship  which  you 
should  command,  could  it  be  useful,  or  lead  to  the  right- 
ing your  honour  ;  but  in  the  present  case,  I  doubt  if 
your  commanding  officer  would  give  you  the  meeting, 
on  account  of  his  having  taken  measures,  which,  however 
harsh  and  exasperating,  were  still  within  the  strict  bounds 

of  his  duty.      Besides,    G is  a  precise    Huguenot, 

and  has  adopted  certain  ideas  about  the  sinfulness  of 
such  rencontres,  from  which  it  would  be  impossible  to 
make  him  depart,  especially  as  his  courage  is  beyond  all 
suspicion.  And  besides,  I — I,  to  say  the  truth — I  dare 
not  at  this  moment,  for  some  very  weighty  reasons,  go 
near  any  of  the  military  quarters  or  garrisons  belonging 
to  this  government." 

"  And  am  I  to  sit  down  quiet  and  contented  under  the 
injury  1  have  received  ?" 

"That  I  will  never  advise  my  friend.  But  I  would 
have  vengeance  to  fall  on  the  head,  not  on  the  hand  ;  on 
the  tyrannical  and  oppressive  government  which  design- 
ed and  directed  these  premeditated  and  reiterated  in- 
sults, not  on  the  tools  of  office  which  they  employed  in 
the  execution  of  the  injuries  they  aimed  at  you." 

"Upon  the  government  !" 

"  Yes,  upon  the  usurping  house  of  Hanover,  whom 
your  grandfather  would  no  more  have  served  than  he 
would  have  taken  w^ages  of  red-hot  gold  from  the  great 
fiend  of  hell !"  ^ 

"  But  since  the  time  of  my  grandfather  two  genera- 
tions of  this  dynasty  have  possessed  the  throne." 

"  True  ; — and  because  we  have  passively  given  them 
so  long  an  opportunity  of  showing  their  native  charac- 
ter,— because  both  you  and  1  myself  have  lived  in  quiet 


"WAVERXET.  189 

submission,  have  even  truckled  to  the  times  so  far  as  to 
accept  commissions  under  them,  and  thus  given  them 
an  opportunity  of  disgracing  us  publicly  by  resuming 
them,  are  we  not  on  that  account  to  resent  injuries 
which  our  fathers  only  apprehended,  but  which  we  have 
actually  sustained  ? — Or  is  the  cause  of  the  unfortunate 
Stuart  family  become  less  just,  because  their  title  has 
devolved  upon  an  heir  who  is  innocent  of  the  charges 
of  misgovernment  brought  against  his  father  ? — Do  you 
remember  the  hues  of  your  favourite  poet, — 

Had  Richard  unconstrain'd  resign'd  the  throfle, 
A  king  can  give  no  more  than  is  his  own  ; 
The  title  stood  entaii'd  had  Richard  had  a  son. 

You  see,  my  dear  Waverley,  I  can  quote  poetry  as  well 
as  Flora  and  you.  But  come,  clear  your  moody  brow, 
and  trust  to  me  to  show  you  an  honourable  road  to  a 
speedy  and  glorious  revenge.  Let  us  seek  Flora,  who, 
perhaps,  has  more  news  to  tell  us  of  what  has  occurred 
during  our  absence.  She  will  rejoice  to  hear  that  vou 
are  relieved  of  your  servitude.  But  first  add  a  post- 
script to  your  letter,  marking  the  time  when  you  receiv- 
ed this  calvinistical  Colonel's  first  summons,  and  ex- 
press your  regret  that  the  hastiness  of  his  proceedings 
prevented  your  anticipating  them  by  sending  your  resig- 
nation.    Then  let  him  blush  for  his  injustice." 

The  letter  was  sealed  accordingly,  covering  a  formal 
resignation  of  the  commission,  and  ]Mac-Ivor  despatched 
it  with  some  letters  of  his  own  by  a  special  messenger, 
with  charge  to  put  them  into  the  nearest  post-office  in  the 
Lowlands. 


J  90 


WAVE  RLE  Y. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Jin  Eclair cissement. 

The  hint  which  the  Chieftain  had  thrown  out  re- 
specting FJora  was  not  unpremeditated.  He  had  observ- 
ed with  great  satisfaction  the  growing  attachment  of  Wa- 
verley  to  his  sister,  nor  did  he  see  any  bar  to  their  union, 
excepting  the  situation  which  Waverley's  father  held  in 
the  ministry,  and  Edward's  own  commission  in  the  array 
of  George  H.  These  obstacles  were  now  removed,  and 
ill  a  manner  which  apparently  paved  the  way  at  least 
for  the  son's  becoming  reconciled  to  another  allegiance* 
In  every  other  respect  the  match  would  be  most  eligible. 
The  safety,  happiness,  and  honourable  provision  of  his 
sister,  whom  he  dearly  loved,  appeared  to  be  insured 
by  the  proposed  union.  And  his  heart  swelled  when  he 
considered  how  his  own  interest  would  be  exalted  in  the 
eyes  of  the  ex-monarch,  to  whom  he  had  dedicated  his 
service,  by  an  alhance  with  one  of  those  ancient,  pow- 
erful, and  wealthy  English  famihes  of  the  ancient  cava- 
lier faith,  to  awaken  whose  decayed  attachment  to  the 
Stuart  family  was  now  a  matter  of  such  vital  importance 
to  their  cause.  Nor  could  Fergus  perceive  any  obsta- 
cle to  such  a  scheme.  Waverley's  attachment  was  evi- 
dent ;  and  as  his  person  was  handsome,  and  his  taste 
apparently  coincided  with  her  own,  he  anticipated  no 
opposition  on  the  part  of  Flora.  Indeed,  between  his 
ideas  of  patriarchal  powser,  and  those  which  he  had  ac- 
quired in  France  respecting  the  disposal  of  females  m 
marriage,  any  opposition  from  his  sister,  dear  as  she 
was  to  him,  would  have  been  the  last  obstacle  on  which 


WAVERLEY.  191 

he  would  have  calculated,  even  had  the  union  been  less 
eligible. 

Influenced  by  these  feelings,  the  Chief  now  led  Wa- 
verley  in  quest  of  Miss  Mac-Ivor,  not  without  the  hope 
that  the  present  agitation  of  his  guest's  spirits  might  give 
him  courage  to  cut  short  what  Fergus  termed  the  romance 
of  the  courtship.  They  found  Flora,  with  her  faithful 
attendants,  Una  and  Cathleen,  busied  in  preparing  what 
appeared  to  Waverley  to  be  white  bridal  favours.  Dis- 
guising as  well  as  he  could  the  agitation  of  his  mind, 
Waverley  asked  for  what  joyful  occasion  Miss  Mac-Ivor 
made  such  ample  preparation. 

"  It  is  for  Fergus's  bridal,"  said  she,  smihng. 
"  Indeed  ! — he  has  kept  his   secret  well.     I  hope  he 
will  allow  me  to  be  his  bride's-man." 

"  That  is  a  man's  office,  but  not  yours,  as  Beatrice 
says." 

"  And  who  is  the  fair  lady  .'"' 

"  Did  I  not  tell  you  long  since,  that  Fergus  wooed  no 
bride  but  Honour  ?" 

"  And  am  I  then  incapable  of  being  his  assistant  and 
counsellor  in  the  pursuit  of  Honour,  Miss  Mac-Ivor  ?" 
said  our  hero,  colouring  deeply.  "  Do  I  rank  so  low  in 
your  opinion  .^" 

"  Far  from  it,  Captain  Waverley.  I  would  to  God 
you  were  of  our  determination  !  and  made  use  of  the 
expression  which  displeased  you,  solely 

Because  you  are  not  of  our  quality, 
But  stand  against  us  as  aji  enemy." 

"  That  time  is  passed,  sister ;  and  you  may  wish  Ed- 
ward Waverley  (no  longer  captain)  joy  of  being  freed 
from  the  slavery  to  an  usurper,  implied  in  that  sable  and 
ill-omened  emblem." 

"  Yes,"  said  Waverley,  undoing  the  cockade  from  his 
hat,  "  it  has  pleased  the  king  who  bestowed  this  badge 
upon  me,  to  resume  it  in  a  manner  which  leaves  me 
little  reason  to  regret  his  service." 


19^  W  AVE  RLE  y. 

"  Thank  God  for  that !"  cried   the  enthusiast ;  "  and 

0  that  they  may  be  blind  enough  to  treat  every  man  ot 
honour  who  serves  them   with  the  same  indignity,  that 

1  may    have    less   to  sigh    for    when    the  struggle  ap- 
proaches !" 

"  And  now,  sister,  replace  his  cockade  with  one  of  a 
more  lively  colour.  I  think  it  was  the  fashion  of  the 
ladies  of  yore  to  arm  and  send  forth  their  knights  to 
high  achievement." 

"  Not  till  the  knight  adventurer  had  well  weighed  the 
justice  and  the  danger  of  the  cause,  Fergus.  Mr.  Wa- 
verley  is  just  now  too  much  agitated  by  feelings  of  re- 
cent emotion,  for  me  to  press  upon  him  a  resolution  of 
consequence." 

Waverley  felt  half  alarmed  at  the  thought  of  adopting 
the  badge  of  what  was  esteemed  rebellion  by  the  ma- 
jority of  the  kingdom,  yet  he  could  not  disguise  his  cha- 
grin at  the  coldness  with  which  Flora  parried  her  broth- 
er's hint.  "  Miss  Mac-Ivor,  I  perceive,  thinks  the 
kniglit  unw^orthy  of  her  encouragement  and  favour," 
said  he,  somewhat  bitterly. 

"  Not  so,  Mr.  Waverley,"  she  replied,  with  great 
sweetness.  "  Why  should  I  refuse  my  brother's  valued 
friend  a  boon  which  I  am  distributing  to  his  whole  clan  f 
Most  willingly  would  I  enlist  every  man  of  honour  in  the 
cause  to  which  my  brother  has  devoted  himself.  But 
he  has  taken  his  measures  with  his  eyes  open.  His 
life  has  been  devoted  to  this  cause  from  his  cradle  ; 
with  him  its  call  is  sacred,  were  it  even  a  summons  to 
the  tomb.  But  how  can  I  wish  you,  Mr.  Waverley,  so 
new  to  the  world,  so  far  from  every  friend  who  might 
advise  and  ought  to  influence  you, — in  a  moment  too  of 
sudden  pique  and  indignation, — how  can  I  wish  you  to 
plunge  yourself  at  once  into  so  desperate  an  enter- 
prize  .?" 

Fergus,  who  did  not  understand  these  delicacies, 
strode  through  the  apartment  biting  his  lip,  and  then, 
with  a  constrained  smile,  said,  "  Well,  sister,  I  leave  you 
to    act    your    new   character  of  mediator  between   the 


WAVERtEY.  193 

Elector  of  Hanover  and  the  subjects  of  your  lawful 
sovereign  and  benefactor,"  and  left  the  room. 

There  was  a  painful  pause,  which  was  at  length  brok- 
en by  Miss  Mac-Ivor.  "  My  brother  is  unjust,"  she  said, 
"  because  he  can  bear  no  interruption  that  seems  to 
thwart  his  loyal  zeal." 

"  And  do  you  not  share  his  ardour  .'^" 

"  Do  I  not  ? — God  knows  mine  exceeds  his,  if  that 
be  possible.  But  I  am  not,  like  him,  rapt  by  the  bustle 
of  military  preparation,  and  the  infinite  detail  necessary 
to  the  present  undertaking,  beyond  consideration  of  the 
grand  principles  of  justice  and  truth,  on  which  our  en- 
terprize  is  grounded  ;  and  these,  I  am  certain,  can  only 
be  furthered  by  measures  in  themselves  true  and  just. 
To  operate  upon  your  present  feelings,  my  dear  Mr. 
Waverley,  to  induce  you  to  an  irretrievable  step,  of 
which  you  have  not  considered  either  the  justice  or  the 
danger,  is,  in  my  poor  judgment,  neither  the  one  nor 
the  other." 

"Incomparable  Flora!"  said  Edward,  taking  her 
hand  ;  •'  how  much  do  I  need  such  a  monitor  !" 

"  A  better  one  by  far,"  said  Flora,  gently  withdraw- 
ing her  hand,  "  Mr.  Waverley  will  ahvays  find  in  his 
own  bosom,  when  he  will  give  its  small  still  voice  leisure 
to  be  heard." 

"  No,  Miss  Mac-Ivor,  I  dare  not  hope  it ;  a  tbo'isand 
circumstances  of  fatal  self-indulgence  have  made  me 
the  creature  rather  of  imagination  than  reason.  Durst 
I  but  hope — could  I  but  think — that  you  would  deign  to 
be  to  me  that  affectionate,  that  condescending  friend, 
who  would  strengthen  me  to  redeem  my  errors,  my  fu- 
ture life" 

*'  Hush,  my  dear  sir !  now  you  carry  your  joy  at  es- 
caping the  hands  of  a  Jacobite  recruiting  officer  to  an 
unparalleled  excess  of  gratitude." 

"  Nay,  dear  Flora,  trifle  with  me  no  longer ;  you 
cannot  mistake  the  meaning  of  those  feelings  vvliich  I 
have  almost  involuntarily  expressed  ;  and,  since   I  have 

17       VOL.    I. 


194  WAYERLEY. 

broke  the  barrier  of  silence,  let  me  profit  by  my  audac- 
ity— Or  may  I,  with  your  permission,  mention  to  your 
brother" 

"  Not  for  the  world,  Mr.  Waverley  !" 

"  What  am  I  to  understand  ?  Is  there  any  fatal  bar 
— has  any  prepossession" 

"  None,  sir.  I  owe  it  to  myself  to  say,  that  I  never 
yet  saw  the  person  on  whom  I  thought  with  reference  to 
the  present  subject." 

"  The  shortness  of  our  acquaintance,  perhaps — If 
Miss  Mac  -Ivor  will  deign  to  give  me  time" 

"  I  have  not  even  that  excuse.  Captain  Waverley's 
character  is  so  open — is,  in  short,  of  that  nature,  that  it 
cannot  be  misconstrued,  either  in  its  strength  or  its 
weakness." 

"  And  for  that  w^eakness  you  despise  me  ?" 

"  Forgive  me,  Mr.  Waverley — and  remember  it  is  but 
within  this  half  hour  that  there  existed  between  us  a 
barrier  of  a  nature  to  me  insurmountable,  since  I  never 
could  think  of  an  officer  in  the  service  of  the  Elector  of 
Hanover  in  any  other  light  than  as  a  casual  acquaint- 
ance. Permit  me  then  to  arrange  my  ideas  upon  so  un- 
expected a  topic,  and  in  less  than  an  hour  I  will  be 
ready  to  give  you  such  reasons  for  the  resolution  I  shall 
express,  as  may  be  satisfactory  at  least,  if  not  pleasing 
to  you."  So  saying.  Flora  withdrew,  leaving  Waverley 
to  meditate  upon  the  manner  in  which  she  had  received 
his  addresses. 

Ere  he  could  make  up  his  mind  whether  to  believe 
his  suit  had  been  acceptable  or  no,  Fergus  re-entered 
the  apartment.  "  What,  a  la  mort,  Waverley  .?"  he 
cried.  "Come  down  with  me  to  the  court,  and  you 
shall  see  a  sight  worth  all  the  tirades  of  your  romances 
An  hundred  firelocks,  my  friend,  and  as  many  broad- 
swords, just  arrived  from  good  friends  ;  and  two  or 
three  hundred  stout  fellows  almost  fighting  which  shall 
first  possess  them*. — But  let  me  look  at  you  closer — 
Why,  a  true  Highlander  would  say  you  have  been  blight- 
ed by  an  evil  eye. — Or  can  it  be  this  silly  girl  that  has 


thus  blanked  your  spirit  f — Never  mind  her,  dear  Ed- 
ward ;  the  wisest  of  her  sex  are  fools  in  what  regards  the 
business  of  hfe." 

"  Indeed,  my  good  friend,"  answered  Waverley,  "  all 
that  I  can  charge  against  your  sister  is,  that  she  is  too 
sensible,  too  reasonable." 

"  If  that  be  all,  [  insure  you  for  a  louis  d'or  against 
the  niood  lasting  four-and-twenty  hours.  No  woman 
was  ever  steadily  sensible  for  that  period  ;  and  I  will 
engage,  if  that  will  please  you.  Flora  shall  be  as  unrea- 
sonable to-morrow  as  any  of  her  sex.  You  must  learn, 
my  dear  Edward,  to  consider  women  en  mousquetaire.^'^ 
So  saying,  he  seized  Waverley's  arm,  and  dragged  him 
off  to  review  his  mihtary  preparations. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Upon  the  same  Subject. 

Fergus  Mac-Ivor  had  too  much  tact  and  delicacy 
to  renew  the  subject  which  he  had  interrupted.  His 
head  was,  or  appeared  to  be,  so  full  of  guns,  broad- 
swords, bonnets,  canteens,  and  tartan  hose,  that  Waver- 
ley could  not  for  some  time  draw  his  attention  to  any 
other  topic. 

"  Are  you  to  take  the  field  so  soon,  Fergus,  that  you 
are  making  all  these  martial  preparations  .^" 

"  When  we  have  settled  that  you  go  with  me,  you 
shall  know  all ;  but  otherwise  the  knowledge  might  rath- 
er be  prejudicial  to  you." 

"  But  are  you  serious  in  your  purpose,  with  such  in- 
ferior forces,  to  rise  against  an  established  government  ? 
It  is  mere  phrenzy." 

"  Laissez  faire  a  Don  Antoine — I  shall  take  good 
care  of  myself.     We  shall  at  least  use  the  compliment 


196 


WAVE  RLE  Y. 


of  Conan,  who  never  got  a  stroke  but  he  gave  one.  I 
would  not,  however,  have  you  think  me  mad  enough  to 
stir  till  a  favourable  opportunity  :  1  will  not  slip  my  dog 
before  the  game's  a-foot. — But,  once  more,  will  you 
join  with  us,  and  you  shall  know  all  f " 

"  How  can  I  ?  J,  who  have  so  lately  held  that  com- 
mission which  is  now  posting  back  to  those  that  gave  it. 
My  accepting  it  implied  a  promise  of  fideHty,  and  an 
acknowledgment  of  the  legality  of  the  government." 

"  A  rash  promise  is  not  a  steel  handcuff;  it  may  be 
shaken  off,  especially  when  it  was  given  under  decep- 
tion, and  has  been  repaid  by  insult.  But  if  you  cannot 
immediately  make  up  your  mind  to  a  glorious  revenge, 
go  to  England,  and  ere  you  cross  the  Tweed  you  will 
hear  tidings  that  will  make  the  world  ring  ;  and  if  Sir 
Everard  be  the  gallant  old  cavalier  I  have  heard  him 
described  by  some  of  our  honest  gentlemen  of  the  year 
one  thousand  seven  hundred  and  fifteen,  he  will  find  you 
a  better  horse-troop  and  a  better  cause  than  you  have 
lost." 

"  But  your  sister,  Fergus  ?" 

"  Out,  hyperbolical  fiend  !  how  vexest  thou  this  man  ! 
— Speakest  thou  of  nothing  but  of  ladies  ?" 

"  Nay,  be  serious,  my  dear  friend  ;  I  feel  that  the 
happiness  of  my  future  life  must  depend  upon  the  an- 
swer which  Miss  Mac-Ivor  shall  make  to  what  I  ventur- 
ed to  tell  her  this  morning." 

"  And  is  this  your  very  sober  earnest,  or  are  we  in 
the  land  of  romance  and  fiction  .'^" 

*'  My  earnest,  undoubtedly.  How  could  you  suppose 
me  jesting  on  such  a  subject.'^" 

"  Then,  in  very  sober  earnest,  I  am  very  glad  to  hear 
it ;  and  so  highly  do  I  think  of  Flora,  that  you  are  the 
only  man  in  England  for  whom  I  would  say  so  much. — 
But  before  you  shake  my  hand  so  warmly,  there  is  more 
to  be  considered — Your  own  family,  will  they  approve 
your  connecting  yourself  with  the  sister  of  a  high-born 
Highland  beggar  f " 


WAVE  RLE  Y.  197 

"  My  uncle's  situation,  his  general  opinions,  and  his 
uniform  indulgence,  entitle  me  to  say,  that  birth  and 
personal  qualities  are  all  he  would  look  to  in  such  a  con- 
nexion. And  where  can  I  find  both  united  in  such  ex- 
cellence as  in  your  sister  f" 

"^  O  nowhere  ! — cela  va  sans  dire.  But  your  father 
will  expect  a  father's  prerogative  in  being  consulted." 

"  Surely  ;  but  his  late  breach  with  the  ruling  powers 
removes  all  apprehension  of  objection  on  his  part,  es- 
pecially as  I  am  convinced  that  my  uncle  will  be  warm- 
in  my  cause." 

"  Religion  perhaps — though  we  are  not  bigotted  Cath- 
olics." 

'*  My  grandmother  was  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  and 
her  religion  was  never  objected  to  by  my  family. — Do 
not  think  of  my  friends,  dear  Fergus  ;  let  me  rather 
have  your  influence  where  it  may  be  more  necessary  to 
remove  obstacles — I  mean  with  your  lovely  sister." 

"  My  lovely  sister,  like  her  loving  brother,  is  very  apt 
to  have  a  pretty  decisive  will  of  her  own,  by  which,  in 
this  case,  you  must  be  ruled  ;  but  you  shall  not  want 
my  interest,  nor  my  counsel.  And,  in  the  first  place,  I 
will  give  you  one  hint — Loyalty  is  her  ruling  passion  ; 
and  since  she  could  spell  an  English  book,  she  has 
been  in  love  with  the  memory  of  the  gallant  Captain 
Wogan,  who  renounced  the  service  of  the  usurper  Crom- 
well to  join  the  standard  of  Charles  II.,  marched  a 
handful  of  cavalry  from  London  to  the  Highlands  to 
join  Middleton,  then  in  arms  for  the  king,  and  at  length 
died  gloriously  in  the  royal  cause.  Ask  her  to  show  you 
some  verses  she  made  on  his  history  and  fate  ;  thgy  have 
been  much  admired,  I  assure  you.  The  next  point  is — 
I  think  I  saw  Flora  go  up  tow^ards  the  water-fall  a  short 
time  since — follow,  man,  follow  ! — don't  allow  the  gar- 
rison time  to  strengthen  its  purposes  of  resistance — 
Ahrie  a  la  muraille  !  Seek  Flora  out,  and  learn  her 
decision  as  soon  as  you  can,  and  Cupid  go  w^ith  you, 
while  1  go  to  look  over  belts  and  cartouch-boxes  J' 

17*       VOL.    I. 


198  WAVERLEY. 

Wav^erley  ascended  the  glen  with  an  anxious  and 
throbbing  heart.  Love,  with  all  its  romantic  train  of 
hopes,  fears,  and  wishes,  was  mingled  with  other  feelings 
of  a  nature  less  easily  defined.  He  could  not  but  re- 
member how  much  this  morning  had  changed  his  fate, 
and  into  what  a  complication  of  perplexity  it  was  likely 
to  plunge  him.  Sunrise  had  seen  him  possessed  of  an 
esteemed  rank  in  the  honourable  profession  of  arms,  his 
father  to  all  appearance  rapidly  rising  in  the  favour  of  his 
sovereign  ; — all  this  had  passed  away  like  a  dream — he 
himself  was  dishonoured,  his  father  disgraced,  and  he 
had  become  involuntarily  the  confidant  at  least,  if  not 
the  accomplice,  of  plans,  dark,  deep,  and  dangerous, 
which  must  either  infer  the  subversion  of  the  govern- 
ment he  had  so  lately  served,  or  the  destruction  of  all 
who  had  participated  in  them.  Should  Flora  even  listen 
to  his  suit  favourably,  what  prospect  was  there  of  its 
being  brought  to  a  happy  termination  amid  the  tumult  of 
an  impending  insurrection  f  Or  how  could  he  make 
the  selfish  request  that  she  should  leave  Fergus,  to  whom 
she  was  so  much  attached,  and,  retiring  with  him  to 
England,  wait  as  a  distant  spectator,  the  success  of  her 
brother's  undertaking,  or  the  ruin  of  all  his  hopes  and 
fortunes  ? — Or,  on  the  other  hand,  to  engage  himself, 
with  no  other  aid  than  his  single  arm,  in  the  dangerous 
and  precipitate  counsels  of  the  Chieftain, — to  be  whirl- 
ed along  by^him,  the  partaker  of  all  his  desperate  and 
impetuous  motions,  renouncing  almost  tlie  power  of 
judging,  or  deciding  upon  the  rectitude  or  prudence  of 
his  actions, — this  was  no  pleasing  prospect  for  the  se- 
cret pride  of  Waverley  to  stoop  to.  And  yet  what 
other  conclusion  remained,  saving  the  rejection  of  his 
addresses  by  Flora,  an  alternative  not  to  be  thought  of 
in  the  present  high-wrought  state  of  his  feelings,  with  any 
tiling  short  of  n)ental  agony.  Pondering  the  doubtful 
and  dangerous  prospect  before  him,  be  at  length  arrived 
near  the  cascade,  where,  as  Fergus  had  augured,  he 
found  Flora  seated. 


WAVE  RLE  Y.  199 

She  was  quite  alone,  and  as  soon  as  she  observed  his 
approach,  she  rose  and  came  to  meet  him.  Edward  at- 
tempted to  saj^  something  within  the  verge  of  ordinary 
comphment  and  conversation,  but  found  himself  unequal 
to  the  task.  Flora  seemed  at  first  equally  embarrassed, 
but  recovered  herself  more  speedily,  and  (an  unfavoura- 
ble augury  for  Waverley's  suit)  was  the  first  to  enter 
upon  the  subject  of  their  last  interview.  "  It  is  too  im- 
portant, in  every  point  of  view,  Mr.  Waverley,  to  per- 
mit me  to  leave  you  in  doubt  upon  my  sentiments." 

"  Do  not  speak  them  speedily,  unless  they  are  such 
as  I  fear  from  your  manner,  I  must  not  dare  to  antici- 
pate. Let  time — let  my  future  conduct — let  your  broth- 
er's influence" 

"  Forgive  me,  Mr.  Waverley.  I  should  incur  my 
own  heavy  censure,  did  I  delay  expressing  my  sincere 
conviction  that  I  can  never  regard  you  otherwise  than  as 
a  valued  friend.  I  should  do  you  the  highest  injustice 
did  I  conceal  my  sentiments  for  a  moment — I  see  I  dis- 
tress you,  and  I  grieve  for  it,  but  better  now  than  later  ; 
and  O  better  a  thousand  times,  Mr.  Waverley,  that  you 
should  feel  a  present  momentary  disappointment,  than 
the  long  and  heart-sickening  griefs  which  attend  a  rash 
and  ill-assorted  marriage  !" 

"  Good  God  !  But  why  should  you  anticipate  such 
consequences  from  a  union  where  birth  is  equal,  where 
fortune  is  favourable,  where,  if  I  may  venture  to  say  so, 
the  tastes  are  similar,  where  you  allege  no  preference, 
where  you  even  express  a  favourable  opinion  of  him 
whom  you  reject  .'^" 

"  Mr.  Waverley,  I  have  that  favourable  opinion,  and 
so  strongly,  that  though  1  would  rather  have  been  silent 
upon  the  grounds  of  my  resolution,  you  shall  commar.d 
them,  if  you  exact  such  a  mark  of  my  esteem  and  con- 
fidence." 

She  sat  down  upon  the  fragment  of  a  rock,  and  Wa- 
verley, placing  himself  near  her,  anxiously  pressed  for 
the  explanation  she  offered. 


200  WAVE  RLE  Y. 

"  I  dare  hardly,"  she  said,  "  tell  you  the  situation  of 
my  feelings,  they  are  so  different  from  those  usually  as- 
cribed to  young  women  at  my  period  of  Hfe ;  and  I 
dare  hardly  touch  upon  what  I  think  the  nature  of  yours, 
lest  I  should  give  offence  where  I  would  willingly  admin- 
ister consolation.  For  myself,  from  my  infancy  till  this 
day,  I  have  had  but  one  wish, — the  restoration  of  my 
royal  benefactors  to  their  rightful  throne.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  express  to  you  the  devotion  of  my  feelings  to 
this  single  subject,  and  I  will  frankly  confess,  that  it 
has  so  occupied  my  mind  as  to  exclude  every  thought 
respecting  what  is  called  my  own  settlement  in  hfe. 
Let  me  but  live  to  see  the  day  of  that  happy  restora- 
tion, and  a  Highland  cottage,  a  French  convent,  or  an 
English  palace,  will  be  ahke  indifferent  to  me." 

"  But,  dearest  Flora,  how  is  your  enthusiastic  zeal  for 
the  exiled  family  inconsistent  with  my  happiness  .'^" 

"  Because  you  seek,  or  ought  to  seek,  in  the  object 
of  your  attachment,  a  heart  whose  principal  delight 
should  be  in  augmenting  your  domestic  felicity,  and  re- 
turning your  affection,  even  to  the  height  of  romance. 
To  a  man  of  less  keen  sensibihty,  and  less  enthusiastic 
tenderness  of  disposition.  Flora  Mac-Ivor  might  give 
content,  if  not  happiness  ;  for,  w^ere  the  irrevocable 
words  spoken,  never  would  she  be  deficient  in  the  duties 
which  she  vowed." 

"  And  why, — why,  Miss  Mac-Ivor,  should  you  think 
yourself  a  more  valuable  treasure  to  one  who  is  less  ca- 
pable of  loving,  of  admiring  you,  than  to  me  .^" 

"  Simply  because  the  tone  of  our  affections  would  be 
more  in  unison,  and  because  his  more  blunted  sensibili- 
ty would  not  require  the  return  of  enthusiasm,  which  I 
have  not  to  bestow.  But  you,  Mr.  Waverlcy,  would  for 
ever  refer  to  the  idea  of  domestic  happiness  which  your 
imagination  is  capable  of  painting,  and  whatever  fell  short 
of  that  ideal  representation  would  be  construed  into  cold- 
ness and  indifference,  while  you  might  consider  the  enthu- 
siasm with  which  I  regarded  the  success  of  the  royal  fam- 
ily, as  defrauding  your  affection  of  its  due  return." 


WAVEBtEY.  201 

"  In  other  words,  Miss  Mac-Ivor,  you  cannot  love  me." 

"  I  could  esteem  you,  Mr.  Waverley,  as  much,  per- 
haps more,  than  any  man  I  have  ever  seen  ;  but  I  can- 
not love  you  as  you  ought  to  beloved.  O  !  do  not,  for 
your  own  sake,  desire  so  hazardous  an  experiment. 
The  woman  whom  you  marry,  ought  to  have  affections 
and  opinions  moulded  upon  yours.  Her  studies  ought 
to  be  your  studies  ; — her  wishes,  her  feelings,  her  hopes, 
her  fears,  should  all  mingle  with  yours.  She  should  en- 
hance your  pleasures,  share  your  sorrows,  and  cheer 
your  melancholy." 

"  And  why  will  not  you.  Miss  Mac-Ivor,  who  can  so 
well  describe  a  happy  union,  why  will  not  you  be  your- 
self the  person  you  describe  ?" 

"  Is  it  possible  you  do  not  yet  comprehend  me  ? 
Have  I  not  told  you,  that  every  keener  sensation  of  my 
mind  is  bent  exclusively  towards  an  event,  upon  which 
indeed  I  have  no  power  but  those  of  my  earnest  prayers  .'" 

"  And  might  not  the  granting  the  suit  I  solicit,  even 
advance  the  interest  to  which  you  have  devoted  your- 
self ?  My  family  is  wealthy  and  powerful,  inclined  in 
principles  to  the  Stuart  race,  and  should  a  favourable 
opportunity" 

"  A  favourable  opportunity  ! — Inclined  in  principles  ! 
— Can  such  lukewarm  adherence  be  honourable  to 
yourselves,  or  gratifying  to  your  lawful  sovereign  f — 
Think,  from  my  present  feelings,  what  I  should  suffer 
when  I  held  the  place  of  member  in  a  family,  where  the 
rights  which  I  hold  most  sacred  are  subjected  to  cold 
discussion,  and  only  deemed  worthy  of  support  when 
they  shall  appear  on  the  point  of  triumphing  without  it !" 

'*  Your  doubts,"  quickly  replied  Waverley,  "  are  un- 
just,  so  far  as  concerns  myself.  The  cause  that  I  shall 
assert,  I  dare  support  through  every  danger,  as  undaunt- 
edly as  the  boldest  who  draws  sword  in  it." 

**  Of  that,"  answered  Flora,  "  I  cannot  doubt  for  a 
moment.  But  consult  your  own  good  sense  and  reason 
rather  than  a  prepossession  hastily  adopted,  probably 
only  because  you  have  met  a  young  woman  possessed  of 


202  WAVERLEY. 

the  usual  accomplishments,  in  a  sequestered  and  roman- 
tic situation.  Let  your  pait  in  this  great  and  perilous 
drama  rest  upon  conviction,  and  not  upon  a  hurried,  and 
probably  a  temporary  feeling." 

Waverley  attempted  to  reply,  but  his  words  failed  him. 
Every  sentiment  that  Flora  had  uttered  vindicated  the 
strength  of  his  attachment  ;  for  even  her  loyalty,  al- 
though wildly  enthusiastic,  was  generous  and  noble,  ^nd 
disdained  to  avail  itself  of  any  indirect  means  of  sup- 
porting the  cause  to  which  she  was  devoted. 

After  walking  a  little  way  in  silence  down  the  path. 
Flora  thus  resumed  the  conversation. — "  One  word 
more,  Mr.  Waverley,  ere  we  bid  farewell  to  this  topic 
for  ever  ;  and  forgive  my  boldness  if  that  word  have  the 
air  of  advice.  My  brother  Fergus  is  anxious  that  you 
should  join  him  in  his  present  enterprize.  But  do  not 
consent  to  this  ', — you  could  not,  by  your  single  exer- 
tions, further  his  success,  and  you  would  inevitably  share 
his  fall,  if  it  be  God's  pleasure  that  fall  he  must.  Your 
character  would  also  suffer  irretrievably.  Let  me  beg 
you  will  return  to  your  own  country  ;  and,  having  pub- 
hcly  freed  yourself  from  every  tie  to  the  usurping  gov- 
ernment, I  trust  you  will  see  cause,  and  find  opportuni- 
ty, to  serve  your  injured  sovereign  with  effect,  and  stand 
forth,  as  your  loyal  ancestors,  at  the  head  of  your  nat- 
ural followers  and  adherents,  a  worthy  representative  of 
the  house  of  Waverley." 

"  And  should  I  be  so  happy  as  thus  to  distinguish  ray- 
self,  might  I  not  hope" 

"  Forgive  my  interruption.  The  present  time  only  is 
ours,  and  I  can  but  explain  to  you  with  candour  the  feel- 
ings which  I  now  entertain  ;  how  they  might  be  altered 
by  a  train  of  events  too  favourable  perhaps  to  be  hoped 
for,  it  were  in  vain  even  to  conjecture  :  Only  be  assured, 
Mr.  Waverley,  that,  after  my  brother's  honour  and  hap- 
piness, there  is  none  which  I  shall  more  sincerely  pray 
for  than  for  yours." 

With  these  words  she  parted  from  him,  for  they  were 
now   arrived   where  two  paths   separated.      Waverley 


WAVERIET.  203 

reached  the  castle  amidst  a  medley  of  conflicting  pas- 
sions. He  avoided  any  private  interview  with  Fergus, 
as  he  did  not  find  himself  able  either  to  encounter  his 
raillery,  or  reply  to  his  solicitations.  The  wild  revelry 
of  the  feast,  for  INIac-Jvor  kept  open  table  for  his  clan, 
served  in  some  degree  to  stun  reflection.  When  their 
festivity  was  ended,  he  began  to  consider  how  he  should 
again  meet  Miss  Mac-Ivor  after  the  painful  and  interest- 
ing explanation  of  the  morning.  But  Flora  did  not  ap- 
pear. Fergus,  whose  eyes  flashed  when  he  was  told  by 
Cathleen,  that  her  mistress  designed  to  keep  her  apart- 
ment that  evening,  went  himself  in  quest  of  her ;  but 
apparently  his  remonstrances  were  in  vain,  for  he  return- 
ed with  a  heightened  complexion,  and  manifest  symp- 
toms of  displeasure.  The  rest  of  the  evening  passed 
on  without  any  allusion,  on  the  part  either  of  Fergus  or 
Waverley,  to  the  subject  which  engrossed  the  reflections 
of  the  latter  and  perhaps  of  both. 

When  retired  to  his  own  apartment,  Edward  endeav- 
oured to  sum  the  business  of  the  day.  That  the  repulse 
he  had  received  from  Flora,  would  be  persisted  in  for  the 
present,  there  was  no  doubt.  But  could  he  hope  for 
ultimate  success  in  case  circumstances  permitted  the  re- 
newal of  his  suit  ?  Would  the  enthusiastic  loyalty,  which 
at  this  animating  moment  left  no  room  for  a  softer  passion, 
survive,  at  least,  in  its  engrossing  force,  the  success  or 
the  failure  of  the  present  political  machinations  ?  And 
if  so,  could  he  hope  that  the  interest  which  she  had  ac- 
knowledged him  to  possess  in  her  favour,  might  be  im- 
proved into  a  warmer  attachment  ?  He  taxed  his  mem- 
ory to  recall  every  word  she  had  used,  with  the  appro- 
priate looks  and  gestures  which  had  enforced  them,  and 
ended  by  finding  himself  in  the  same  state  of  uncertainty- 
It  was  very  late  before  sleep  brought  relief  to  the  tumult 
of  his  mind,  after  the  most  painful  and  agitating  day 
which  he  had  ever  passed. 


204  WAVE  RLE  T. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

A  Letter  from  Tully-I^eolan, 

In  the  morning,  when  Waverley's  troubled  reflections 
had  for  some  time  given  way  to  repose,  there  came 
music  to  his  dreams,  but  not  the  voice  of  Sehna.  He 
imagined  himself  transported  back  toTully-Veolan,  and 
that  he  heard  Davie  Gellatley  singing  in  the  court  those 
matins  which  used  generally  lo  be  the  first  sounds  that 
disturbed  his  repose  while  a  guest  of  the  Baron  of  Brad- 
wardine.  The  notes  which  suggested  this  vision  continu- 
ed and  waxed  louder,  until  Edward  awaked  in  earnest. 
The  illusion,  however,  did  not  seem  entirely  dispelled. 
The  apartment  was  in  the  fortress  of  Ian  nan  Chaistel, 
but  it  was  still  the  voice  of  Davie  Gellatley  that  made 
the  following  lines  resound  under  the  window  : — 

My  heart's  in  the  Highlands,  my  heart  is  not  here, 
My  heart's  in  the  Highlands  a-chasing  the  deer  ; 
A-chasing  the  wild  deer,  and  following  the  roe, 
My  heart's  in  the  Highlands  wherever  I  go. 

Curious  to  know  what  could  have  determined  Mr.  Gel- 
latley on  an  excursion  of  such  unwonted  extent,  Edward 
began  to  dress  himself  in  all  haste,  during  which  operation 
the  minstrelsy  of  Davie  changed  its  tune  more  than  once, 

There's  nought  in  the  Highlands  but  syboes  and  leeks, 
And  lang-leggit  callants  gaun  wanting  the  breeks  ; 
Wanting  the  breeks,  and  without  hose  or  shoon. 
But  we'll  a'  win  the  breeks  when  King  Jamie  comes  hame. 

By  the  time  Waverley  was  dressed  and  had  issued 
forth,  David  had  associated  himself  with  two  or  three 
of  the  numerous  Highland  loungers   who  always  graced 


WAVERIET.  205 

the  gates  of  the  castle  with  their  presence,  and  was  ca- 
pering and  dancing  full  merrily  in  the  doubles  and  full 
career  of  a  Scotch  foursome  reel,  to  the  music  of  his 
own  whistling.  In  this  double  capacity  of  dancer  and 
musician,  he  continued,  until  an  idle  piper,  who  observed 
his  zeal,  obeyed  the  unanimous  call  of  Seid  suas,  [i.  e. 
blow  up,)  and  reheved  him  from  the  latter  part  of  his 
trouble.  Young  and  old  then  mingled  in  the  dance  as 
they  could  find  partners.  The  appearance  of  Waverley 
did  not  interrupt  David's  exercise,  though  he  contrived^ 
by  grinning,  nodding,  and  throwing  one  or  two  inclinations 
of  the  body  into  the  graces  with  which  he  performed 
the  Highland  fling,  to  convey  to  our  hero  symptoms  of 
recognition.  Then,  while  busily  employed  in  setting, 
whooping  all  the  while  and  snapping  his  fingers  over  his 
head,  be  of  a  sudden  prolonged  his  side-step  until  it 
brought  him  to  the  place  where  Edward  was  standing, 
and,  still  keeping  time  to  the  music  like  Harlequin  in  a 
pantomime,  he  thrust  a  letter  into  our  hero's  hand,  and 
continued  his  saltation  without  pause  or  intermission. 
Edward,  who  perceived  that  the  address  was  in  Rose's 
hand-writing,  retired  to  peruse  it,  leaving  the  faithful 
bearer  to  continue  his  exercise  until  the  piper  or  he 
should  be  tired  out. 

The  contents  of  the  letter  greatly  surprised  liim.  It 
had  originally  commenced  with.  Dear  Sir  ;  but  these 
words  had  been  carefully  erased,  and  the  monosyllable, 
Sir,  substituted  in  their  place.  The  rest  of  the  contacts 
shall  be  given  in  Rose's  own  language. 

"  I  fear  I  am  using  an  improper  freedom  by  intruding 
upon  you,  yet  I  cannot  trust  to  any  one  else  to  let  you 
know  some  things  which  have  happened  here,  with  which 
it  seems  necessary  you  should  be  acquainted.  Forgive 
me,  if  I  am  wrong  in  what  I  am  doing  ;  for,  alas  !  Mr. 
Waverley,  I  have  no  better  advice  than  that  of  my  own 
feehngs  ; — my  dear  father  is  gone  from  this  place,  and 
when  he  can  return  to  my  assistance  and  protection,  God 
alone  knows.     You  have  probably  heard,  that  in  conse- 

18        VOL.    I. 


206  WAVERLEY. 

quence  of  some  troublesome  news  from  the  Highlands, 
warrants  were  sent  out  for  apprehending  several  gentle- 
men in  these  parts,  and,  among  others,  my  dear  father. 
In  spite  of  all  my  tears  and  entreaties  that  he  would  sur- 
render himself  to  the  government,  he  joined  with  Mr. 
Falconer  and  some  other  gentlemen,  and  they  have  all 
gone  northwards,  with  a  body  of  about  forty  horsemen. 
So  I  am  not  so  much  anxious  concerning  his  imm.ediate 
safety,  as  about  what  may  follow  afterwards,  for  these 
troubles  are  only  beginning.  But  all  this  is  nothing  to 
you,  Mr.  Waverley,  only  I  thought  you  would  be  glad  to 
learn  that  my  father  had  escaped,  in  case  you  happen  to 
have  heard  that  he  was  in  danger. 

"  But  the  day  after  my  father  went  off,  there  came  a 
party  of  soldiers  to  Tully-Veolan,  and  behaved  very 
rudely  to  BailHe  Macwheeble  ;  but  the  officer  was  very 
civil  to  me,  only  said  his  duty  obliged  him  to  search  for 
arms  and  papers.  My  father  had  provided  against  this 
by  taking  away  all  the  arms  except  the  old  useless  things 
which  hung  in  the  hall,  and  he  had  put  all  his  papers  out 
of  the  way.  But  O  !  Mr.  Waverley,  how  shall  I  tell 
you  that  they  made  strict  inquiry  after  you,  and  asked 
when  you  had  been  at  Tully-Veolan,  and  where  you  now 
were.  The  officer  is  gone  back  with  his  party,  but  a 
non-commissioned  officer  and  four  men  remain  as  a  sort 
of  garrison  in  the  house.  They  have  hitherto  behaved 
very  well,  as  we  are  forced  to  keep  them  in  good  humour,. 
But  these  soldiers  have  hinted  as  if  upon  your  falling 
into  their  hands  you  would  be  in  great  danger  ;  I  cannot 
prevail  on  myself  to  write  what  wicked  falsehoods  they 
said,  for  1  am  sure  they  are  falsehoods  ;  but  you  w-iii 
best  judge  what  you  ought  to  do.  The  party  returned, 
carried  off  your  servant  prisoner,  with  your  two  horses, 
and  every  thing  that  you  left  at  Tully-Veolan.  I  hope 
God  will  protect  you,  and  that  you  will  get  safe  home  to 
England,  where  you  used  to  tell  me  there  was  no  milita- 
ry violence  nor  fighting  among  clans  permitted,  but  every 
thing  was  done  according  to  an  equal  law  that  protected 
all  who  were  harmless   and   innocent.     I  hope  you  will 


WAVERLET.  207 

exert  your  indulgence  as  to  my  boldness  in  writing  to 
you,  where  it  seems  to  me,  though  perhaps  erroneously, 
that  your  safety  and  honour  are  concerned. — I  am  sure 
— at  least  I  think,  my  father  would  approve  of  my  writ- 
ing ;  for  Mr.  Rubric  is  fled  to  his  cousin's  at  the  Duch- 
ran,  to  be  out  of  danger  from  the  soldiers  and  the  whigs, 
and  Bailhe  Macwheeble  does  not  like  to  meddle  (he  says) 
in  other  men's  concerns,  though  I  hope  what  may  serve 
my  father's  friend  at  such  a  time  as  this,  cannot  be  term- 
ed improper  interference.  Farewell,  Captain  Waverley  ! 
I  shall  probably  never  see  you  more  ;  for  it  would  be 
very  improper  to  wish  you  to  call  at  Tully-Veolan  just 
now,  even  if  these  men  were  gone  ;  but  I  will  always  re- 
member with  gratitude  your  kindness  in  assisting  so  poor 
a  scholar  as  myself,  and  your  attentions  to  my  dear,  dear 
father.  I  remain  your  obliged  servant.  Rose  Comyne 
Bradwardine. 

"  P.  S. — I  hope  you  will  send  me  a  line  by  David 
Gellatley,  just  to  say  you  have  received  this,  and  will  take 
care  of  yourself ;  and  forgive  me  if  I  entreat  you,  for 
your  own  sake,  to  join  none  of  these  unhappy  cabals, 
but  escape,  as  fast  as  possible,  to  your  own  fortunate 
country.  My  compliments  to  my  dear  Flora  and  to 
Glennaquoich.  Js  she  not  as  handsome  and  accomplish- 
ed as  I  described  her  ?" 

Thus  concluded  the  letter  of  Rose  Bradwardine,  the 
contents  of  which  both  surprised  and  affected  Waverley. 
That  the  Baron  should  fall  under  the  suspicion  of  govern- 
ment in  consequence  of  the  present  stir  among  the  par- 
tizans  of  the  house  of  Stuart,  seemed  only  the  natural 
consequence  of  his  political  predilections  ;  but  how  he 
should  have  been  involved  in  such  suspicions,  conscious 
that  until  yesterday  he  had  been  free  from  harbouring  a 
thought  against  the  prosperity  of  the  reigning  family, 
seemed  inexplicable.  Both  at  Tully-Veolan  and  Glen- 
naquoich his  hosts  had  respected  his  engagements  with 
the  immediate  government,  and  though  enough  passed  by 
accidental  inuendo  that  might  induce  him  to  reckon  the 
Baron  and  the  Chief  among  those  disaffected  gentlemen 


208 


WAVERtEY. 


who  were  still  numerous  in  Scotland,  yet  until  his  own 
connection  with  the  army  had  been  broken  off  by  the 
resumption  of  his  commission,  he  had  no  reason  to  sup- 
pose that  they  nourished  any  immediate  or  hostile  at- 
tempts against  the  present  estabhshment.  Still  he  was 
aware  that  unless  he  meant  at  once  to  .embrace  the  pro- 
posal of  Fergus  Mac-Ivor,  it  would  deeply  concern  him 
to  leave  this  suspicious  neighbourhood  without  delay,  and 
repair  where  his  conduct  might  undergo  a  satisfactory 
examination.  Upon  this  he  the  rather  determined,  as 
Flora's  advice  favoured  his  doing  so,  and  because  he  felt 
inexpressible  repugnance  at  the  idea  of  being  accessary 
to  the  plague  of  civil  war.  Whatev^er  were  the  original 
rights  of  the  Stuarts,  calm  reflection  told  him,  that, 
omitting  the  question  how  far  James  the  Second  could 
forfeit  those  of  his  posterity,  he  had,  according  to  the 
united  voice  of  the  whole  nation,  justly  forfeited  his  own. 
Since  that  period,  four  monarchs  had  reigned  in  peace 
and  glory  over  Britain,  sustaining  and  exalting  the  char- 
acter of  the  nation  abroad,  and  its  liberties  at  home. 
Reason  asked,  was  it  w^orth  while  to  disturb  a  govern- 
ment so  long  settled  and  established,  and  to  plunge  a 
kingdom  into  all  the  miseries  of  civil  war,  to  replace  upon 
the  throne  the  descendants  of  a  monarch  by  whom  it  had 
been  wilfully  forfeited  ?  If,  on  the  other  hand,  his  own 
tinal  conviction  of  the  goodness  of  their  cause,  or  the 
commands  of  his  father  or  uncle,  should  recommend  to 
him  allegiance  to  the  Stuarts,  still  it  was  necessary  to 
clear  his  own  character  by  showing  that  he  had  taken 
no  step  to  this  purpose,  as  seemed  to  be  falsely  insinu- 
ated, during  his  holding  the  commission  of  the  reigning 
monarch. 

The  affectionate  simplicity  of  Rose,  and  her  anxiety 
for  his  safety, — his  sense  too  of  her  unprotected  state, 
and  of  the  terror  and  actual  dangers  to  which  she  might 
be  exposed,  made  an  impression  upon  his  mind,  and  he 
instantly  wrote  to  thank  her  in  the  kindest  terms  for  her 
anxiety  on  his  account,  to  express  his  earnest  good  wishes 
for  her  welfare  and  that  of  her  father,  and  to  assure  her 


WAVERLEY.  209 

of  his  own  safety.  The  feelings  which  this  task  excited 
were  speedily  lost  in  the  necessity  which  he  now  saw  of 
bidding  farewell  to  Flora  Mac-Ivor,  perhaps  for  ever. 
The  pang  attending  this  reflection  was  inexpressible  ;  for 
her  high-minded  elevation  of  character,  her  self-devotion 
to  the  cause  which  she  had  embraced,  united  to  her 
scrupulous  rectitude  as  to  the  means  of  serving  it,  had 
vindicated  to  his  judgment  the  choice  adopted  by  his 
passions.  But  time  pressed,  calumny  was  busy  with  his 
fame,  and  every  hour's  delay  increased  the  power  to  in- 
jure it.     His  departure  must  be  instant. 

With  this  determination  he  sought  out  Fergus,  and 
communicated  to  him  the  contents  of  Rose's  letter,  with 
his  own  resolution  instantly  to  go  to  Edinburgh,  and, 
seeking  out  some  one  or  other  of  those  persons  of  in- 
fluence to  wbom  he  had  letters  from  his  father  to  put  into 
their  hands  his  exculpation  from  any  charge  which  might 
be  preferred  against  him. 

"  You  run  your  head  into  the  lion's  mouth,"  answered 
Mac-Ivor.  "  You  do  not  know  the  severity  of  a  gov- 
ernment harassed  by  just  apprehensions,  and  a  conscious- 
ness of  their  own  illegality  and  insecurity.  I  shall  have 
to  dehver  you  from  some  dungeon  in  Stirhng  or  Edin- 
burgh Castle." 

"  My  innocence,  my   rank,  my  father's  intimacy  with 

Lord  M ,  General  G ,  he.  will  be  a   sufficient 

protection." 

"  You  will  find  the  contrary  ;  these  gentlemen  will 
have  enough  to  do  about  their  own  matters.  Once  more,^ 
will  you  take  the  plaid,  and  stay  a  little  while  with  me 
among  the  mists  and  the  crows,  in  the  bravest  cause  ever 
sword  was  drawn  in  ?" 

"  For  many  reasons,  my  dear  Fergus,  you  must  hold 
me  excused." 

*'  Well  then,  I  shall  certainly  find  you  exerting  your 
poetical  talents  in  elegies  upon  a  prison,  or  your  anti- 
quarixm  researches  in  detecting  the  Oggam  character,  or 
some  Punic  hieroglyphic  upon  the  key-stones  of  a  va«hj 

18*       VOL.    I. 


210  WAVERLEY. 

curiously  arched.  Or  what  say  you  to  un  petit  pende- 
■ment  bien  JoU,  against  which  awkward  ceremony  I  don't 
warrant  you,  should  you  meet  a  body  of  the  armed  west 
country  whigs  ?" 

**  And  why  should  they  use  me  so  ?" 

"  For  a  hundred  good  reasons  :  First,  you  are  an 
Englishman  ;  secondly,  a  gentleman  ;  thirdly,  a  prelatist 
abjured  ;  and,  fourthly,  they  have  not  had  an  opportunity 
to  exercise  their  talents  on  such  a  subject  this  long  while. 
But  don't  be  cast  down,  beloved  :  all  will  be  done  in  the 
fear  of  the  Lord." 

"  Well,  I  must  run  my  hazard." 

"  You  are  determined  then  f" 

"  1  am." 

"  Wilful  will  do't ; — but  you  cannot  go  on  foot,  and  I 
shall  want  no  horse,  as  I  must  march  on  foot  at  the  head 
of  the  children  of  Ivor  :  you  shall  have  brown  Dermid." 

"If  you  will  sell  him,  I  shall  certainly  be  much 
obliged." 

"  If  your  proud  English  heart  cannot  be  obliged  by  a 
gift  or  loan,  1  will  not  refuse  money  at  the  entrance  of  a 
campaign  :  his  price  is  twenty  guineas.  [Remember, 
reader,  it  was  Sixty  Years  Since.]  And  when  do  you 
propose  to  depart  ?" 

"  The  sooner  the  better." 

"  You  are  right,  since  go  you  must,  or  rather,  since  go 
you  will  :  I  will  take  Flora's  pony,  and  ride  with  you 
as  far  as  Bally-Brough.  Galium  Beg,  see  that  our  horses 
are  ready,  with  a  pony  for  yourself,  to  attend  and  carry 

Mr.  Waverley's  baggage  as  far  as (naming  a  small 

town,)  where  he  can  have  a  horse  and  guide  to  Edin- 
burgh. Put  on  a  Lowland  dress,  Galium,  and  see  you 
keep  your  tongue  close,  if  you  would  not  have  me  cut 
it  out  :  Mr.  Waverley  rides  Dermid."  Then  turning  to 
Edward,  "  You  will  take  leave  of  my  sister  .f^" 

"  Surely — that  is,  if  Miss  Mac-Ivor  will  honour  me 
so  far." 

"  Gathleen,  let  my  sister  know  Mr.  Waverley  wishes 
to  bid  her  farewell   before  he  leaves   us.      But  Rose 


-WAVE  RLE  Y.  211 

Bradwardine,  her  situation  must  be  thought  of — I  wish 
she  were  here — And  why  should  she  not  ? — There  are 
but  four  red-coats  at  Tully-Veolan,  and  their  muskets 
would  be  very  useful  to  us." 

To  these  broken  remarks  Edward  made  no  answer  ; 
his  ear  indeed  received  them,  but  his  soul  was  intent 
upon  the  expected  entrance  of  Flora.  The  door  open- 
ed— It  was  but  Cathleen,  with  her  lady's  excuse,  and 
wishes  for  Captain  Waverley's  health  and  happiness. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

Waverletfs  Reception  in  the  Lowlands  after  his  High- 
land Tour. 

It  was  noon  when  the  two  friends  stood  at  the  top  of 
the  pass  of  Bally-Brough.  "  I  must  go  no  farther," 
said  Fergus  Mac-Ivor,  who  during  the  journey  had  in 
vain  endeavoured  to  raise  his  friend's  spirits.  "  If  my 
cross-grained  sister  has  any  share  in  your  dejection, 
trust  me  she  thinks  highly  of  you,  though  her  present 
anxiety  about  the  public  cause  prevents  her  listening  to 
any  other  subject.  Confide  your  interest  to  me  ;  I  will 
not  betray  it,  providing  you  do  not  again  assume  that 
vile  cockade." 

"  No  fear  of  that,  considering  the  manner  in  which  it 
has  been  recalled.  Adieu,  Fergus  ;  do  not  permit  your 
sister  to  forget  me." 

"  And  adieu,  Waverley  ;  you  may  soon  hear  of  her 
with  a  prouder  title.  Get  home,  v/rite  letters,  and  make 
friends  as  many  and  as  fast  as  you  can ;  there  will 
speedily  be  unexpected  guests  on  the  coast  of  Suffijlk, 
or  my  news  from  France  has  deceived  me." 

Thus  parted  the  friends  ;  Fergus  returning  back  to 
his  castle,  while  Edward,  followed  by  Galium  Beg,  tli<? 


212  WAVERLEY. 

latter  transformed  from  point  to  point  into  a  Low-country 
groom,  proceeded  to  the  little  town  of . 

Edward  paced  on  under  the  painful  and  yet  not  alto- 
gether embittered  feehngs  which  separation  and  uncer- 
tainty produce  in  the  mind  of  a  youthful  lover.  I  am 
not  sure  if  the  ladies  understand  the  full  value  of  the  in- 
fluence-of  absence,  nor  do  I  think  it  wise  to  teach  it 
them,  lest,  like  the  Clelias  and  Mandanes  of  yore,  they 
should  resume  the  humour  of  sending  their  lovers  to 
banishment.  Distance,  in  truth,  produces  in  idea  the 
same  effect  as  in  real  perspective.  Objects  are  softened, 
and  rounded,  and  rendered  doubly  graceful ;  the  harsher 
and  more  ordinary  points  of  character  are  mellowed 
down,  and  those  by  w^hich  it  is  remembered  are  the  more 
striking  outlines  that  mark  sublimity,  grace,  or  beauty. 
There  are  mists  too  in  the  mental,  as  well  as  the  nat- 
ural horizon,  to  conceal  what  is  less  pleasant  in  distant 
objects,  and  there  are  happy  liglits,  to  stream  in  full 
glory  upon  those  points  which  can  profit  by  brilliant  il- 
lumination. 

Waverley  forgot  Flora  Mac-Jvor's  prejudices  in  her 
magnanimity,  and  almost  pardoned  her  indifference  to^ 
wards  his  affection,  when  he  recollected  the  grand 
and  decisive  object  which  seemed  to  fill  her  whole  soul. 
She,  whose  sense  of  duty  so  wholly  engrossed  her  in 
the  cause  of  a  benefactor,  what  would  be  her  feelings 
m  favour  of  the  happy  individual  who  should  be  so  for- 
tunate as  to  awaken  them  ?  Then  came  the  doubtful 
question,  whether  he  might  not  be  that  happy  man,- — 
a  question  which  fancy  endeavoured  to  answer  in  the 
affirmative,  by  conjuring  up  all  she  had  said  in  his 
praise,  with  the  addition  of  a  comment  much  more  flat- 
tering than  the  text  warranted.  All  that  was  common- 
place, all  that  belonged  to  the  every-day  world,  was 
melted  away  and  obliterated  in  those  dreams  of  imagi- 
nation, which  only  remembered  with  advantage  the  points 
of  grace  and  dignity  that  distinguished  Flora  from  the 
generality  of  her  sex,  not  the  particulars  which  she  held  in 
common  with  them.      Edward  was,  in  short,  in  the  fair 


WAVE  RLE  Y.  213 

way  of  creating  a  goddess  out  of  a  high-spirited,  accom- 
pHshed,  and  beautiful  young  woman  ;  and  the  time  was 
wasted  in  castle-building,  until,  at  the  descent  of  a  steep 
hill,  he  saw  beneath  him  the  market-town  of . 

The  Highland  politeness  of  Galium  Beg — there  are 
few  nations,  by  the  way,  that  can  boast  of  so  much  nat- 
ural politeness  as  the  Highlanders — the  Highland  civility 
of  his  attendant  had  not  permitted  him  to  disturb  the 
reveries  of  our  hero.  But,  observing  him  rouse  himself 
at  the  sight  of  the  village,  Galium  pressed  closer  to  his 
side,  and  hoped,  "  when  they  cam  to  the  public,  his  hon- 
our wad  not  say  nothing  about  Vich  Ian  Vohr,  for  ta 
people  were  bitter  vvhigs,  de'il  burst  tem." 

Waverley  assured  the  prudent  page  that  he  would  be 
cautious  ;  and  as  he  now  distinguished,  not  indeed  the 
ringing  of  bells,  but  the  tinkhng  of  something  like  a 
hammer  against  the  side  of  an  old  mossy,  green,  invert- 
ed porridge-pot,  that  hung  in  an  open  booth,  of  the  size 
and  shape  of  a  parrot's  cage,  erected  to  grace  the  east 
end  of  a  building  resembling  an  old  barn,  he  asked  Gal- 
ium Beg  if  it  were  Sunday. 

"  Gould  na  say  just  preceesely — Sunday  seldom  cam 
aboon  the  pass  of  Bally-Brough." 

On  entering  the  town,  however,  and  advancing  toward 
the  most  apparent  public-house  which  presented  itself, 
the  numbers  of  old  women,  in  tartan  screens  and  red 
cloaks,  who  streamed  from  the  barn-resembling  building, 
debating  as  they  went,  the  comparative  merits  of  the 
blessed  youth  Jabesh  Rentowel,  and  that  chosen  vessel 
Maister  Goukthrapple,  induced  Galium  to  assure  his 
temporary  master,  "  that  it  was  either  ta  muckle  Sun- 
day hersel,  or  ta  little  government  Sunday  that  they  ca'd 
ta  fast." 

Upon  alighting  at  the  sign  of  the  Seven-branched 
Golden  Gandlestick,  which,  for  the  further  delectation  of 
the  guests,  was  graced  with  a  short  Hebrew  motto,  they 
were  received  by  mine  host,  a  tall  thin  puritanical  figure, 
who  seemed  to  debate  with  himself  whether  he  ought  to 
give  shelter  to  those  who  travelled  on  such  a  day.     Re- 


214  WAVERLEY. 

fleeting,  however,  in  all  probability,  that  he  possessed 
the  power  of  mulcting  them  for  this  irregularity,  a  pen- 
alty which  they  might  escape  by  passing  into  Gregor 
Duncanson's,  at  the  sign  of  the  Highlander  and  the 
Hawick  Gill,  Mr.  Ebenezer  Cruickshanks  condescended 
to  admit  them  into  his  dwelling. 

To  this  sanctified  person  Waverley  addressed  his  re- 
quest, that  he  would  procure  him  a  guide,  with  a  saddle- 
horse  to  carry  his  portmanteau  to  Edinburgh. 

"  And  whar  may  ye  be  coming  from  f"  demanded 
mine  host  of  the  Candlestick. 

"  I  have  told  you  where  I  wish  to  go  :  I  do  not  con- 
ceive any  further  information  necessary  either  for  the 
guide  or  his  saddle-horse." 

"  Hem  !  Ahem  !"  returned  he  of  the  Candlestick, 
somewhat  disconcerted  at  this  rebuff.  "  It's  the  general 
fast,  sir,  and  1  cannot  enter  into  ony  carnal  transactions 
on  sic  a  day,  when  the  people  should  be  humbled,  and 
the  backsliders  should  return,  as  worthy  Maister  Gouk- 
thrapple  said  ;  and  moreover  when,  as  the  precious 
Maister  Jabesh  Rentowel  did  weel  observe,  the  land  was 
mourning  for  covenants  burnt,  broken,  and  buried." 

"  My  good  friend,  if  you  cannot  let  me  have  a  horse 
and  guide,  my  servant  shall  seek  them  elsewhere." 

*'  A  weel  !  Your  servant  ? — and  what  for  gangs  he 
not  forward  wi'  you  himsel  f^^ 

Waverley  had  but  very  little  of  a  captain  of  horse's 
spirit  wMthin  him — I  mean  of  that  sort  of  spirit  which  I 
have  been  obliged  to  w^hen  I  happened,  in  a  mail-coach 
or  dihgence,  to  meet  some  mihtary  man  who  has  kindly 
taken  upon  him  the  disciphning  of  the  waiters,  and  the 
taxing  of  reckonings.  Some  of  this  useful  talent  our 
hero  had,  however,  acquired  during  his  military  service, 
and  on  this  gross  provocation  it  began  seriously  to  arise. 
*'  Look  ye,  sir,  I  came  here  for  my  own  accommodation, 
and  not  to  answer  impertinent  questions.  Either  say  you 
can,  or  cannot,  get  me  what  I  want  ;  I  shall  pursue  my 
course  in  either  case." 


WAVERLEY.  215 

Mr.  Ebenezer  Crulckshanks  left  the  room  with  some 
indistinct  muttering,  but  whetiier  negative  or  acquiescent, 
Edward  could  not  well  distinguish.  The  hostess,  a  civil, 
quiet,  laborious  drudge,  came  to  take  his  orders  for  din- 
ner, but  declined  to  make  answer  upon  the  subject  of 
the  horse  and  guide,  for  the  Salique  law,  it  seems,  ex- 
tended to  the  stables  of  the  Golden  Candlestick. 

From  a  window  which  overlooked  the  dark  and  nar- 
row court  in  which  Galium  Beg  dressed  the  horses  after 
their  journey,  Waverley  heard  the  following  dialogue 
betwixt  the  subtle  foot-page  of  Vich  Ian  Vohr  and  his 
landlord. 

"  Ye'll  be  frae  the  north,  young  man  f "  began  the 
latter. 

"  And  ye  may  say  that,"  answered  Galium. 

"  And  ye'll  hae  ridden  a  lang  way  the  day,  it  may 
weel  be  ?" 

"  Sae  lang,  that  I  could  weel  tak  a  dram." 

"  Gudewife,  bring  the  gill  stoup." 

Here  some  compliments  passed,  fitting  the  occasion^ 
when  my  host  of  the  Golden  Candlestick,  having,  as  he 
thought,  opened  his  guest's  heart  by  this  hospitable  pro- 
pitiation, resumed  his  scrutiny. 

"  Ye'll  no  hae  mickle  better  whisky  than  that  aboon 
the  Pass  r" 

"  I  am  nae  frae  aboon  the  Pass." 

"  Ye're  a  Highlandman  by  your  tongue  .^" 

"  Na,  I  am  but  just  frae  Aberdeen-a-way." 

*'  And  did  your  master  come  frae  Aberdeen  wi^  you  ?** 

"  Ay — that's  when  I  left  itmysel,"  answered  the  cool 
and  impenetrable  Galium  Beg- 

"  And  what  kind  of  a  gentleman  is  he  ?" 

"  I  believe  he  is  ane  o'  King  George's  state  officers  ; 
at  least  he's  aye  for  ganging  on  to  the  south,  and  he  has 
a  hande  siller,  and  never  grudges  ony  thing  to  a  poor 
body,  or  in  the  way  of  a  lawing." 

"  He  wants  a  guide  and  a  horse  frae  hence  to  Edm- 
burgh  ?" 

**  Ay,  and  ye  maun  find  it  him  forthwith." 


216  "WAVERLET. 

"  Ahem  !  It  will  be  chargeable." 

**  He  cares  na  for  that  a  boddle." 

'*  Aweel,  Duncan — Did  ye  say  your  name  was  Dun- 
can, or  Donald  f" 

"  Na,    man — Jamie Jamie    Steenson — I   telt   ye 

before." 

This  last  undaunted  parry  altogether  foiled  Mr.  Cruick- 
shanks,  who,  though  not  quite  satisfied  either  with  the 
reserve  of  the  master,  or  the  extreme  readiness  of  the 
man,  was  contented  to  lay  a  tax  upon  the  reckoning  and 
horsehire,  that  might  compound  for  his  ungratified  curios- 
ity. The  circumstance  of  its  being  the  fast-day  was  not 
forgotten  in  the  charge,  which,  upon  the  whole,  did  not, 
however,  amount  to  much  more  than  double  what  in  fair- 
ness it  should  have  been. 

Galium  Beg  soon  after  announced  in  person  the  ratifi- 
cation of  this  treaty,  adding,  "  Ta  auld  deevil  was 
ganging  to  ride  wi'  the  Duinhe-wassal  hersel." 

"  That  will  not  be  very  pleasant,  Galium,  nor  altogeth- 
er safe,  for  our  host  seems  a  person  of  great  curiosity  j 
but  a  traveller  must  submit  to  these  inconveniences^ 
Meanwhile,  my  good  lad,  here  is  a  trifle  for  you  to  drink 
Vich  Ian  Vohr's  health." 

The  hawk's  eye  of  Galium  flashed  delight  upon  a 
golden  guinea,  with  which  these  last  words  were  accom- 
panied. He  hastened,  not  without  a  curse  upon  the  in- 
tricacies of  a  Saxon  breeches  pocket,  or  spleuchan,  as 
he  called  it,  to  deposit  the  treasure  in  his  fob  ;  and  then, 
as  if  he  conceived  the  benevolence  called  for  some  re- 
quital on  his  part,  he  gathered  close  up  to  Edward,  with 
an  expression  of  countenance  peculiarly  knowing,  and 
spoke  in  an  under  tone,  "  If  his  honour  thought  ta  auld 
deevil  whig  carle  was  a  bit  dangerous,  she  could  easily 
provide  for  him,  and  teil  ane  ta  wiser." 

"  How,  and  in  what  manner  .^" 

"  Her  ain  sell,"  replied  Galium,  "  could  wait  for  him 
a  wee  bit  frae  the  toun,  and  kittle  his  quarters  wi'  her 
ikene-occle." 

"  Skene-occle  !  what's  that  ?" 


WAYERLEY.  217 

Callum  unbuttoned  his  coat,  raised  his  left  arm,  and, 
with  an  emphatic  nod,  pointed  to  the  hilt  of  a  small  dirk, 
snugly  deposited  under  it,  in  the  lining  of  his  jacket. 
Waverley  thought  he  had  misunderstood  his  meaning  ; 
he  gazed  in  his  face,  and  discovered  in  Callum's  very 
handsome,  though  embrowned  features,  just  the  degree 
of  roguish  malice  with  which  a  lad  of  the  same  age  in 
England  would  have  brought  forward  a  plan  for  robbing 
an  orchard. 

"  Good  God,  Callum,  would  you  take  the  man's  life  ,'"' 

"  Indeed,"  answered  the  young  desperado,  "  and  I 
think  he  has  had  just  a  lang  enough  lease  o't,  when  he's 
for  betraying  honest  folk,  that  come  to  spend  siller  at  his 
public." 

Edward  saw  nothing  was  to  be  gained  by  argument, 
and  therefore  contented  himself  with  enjoining  Callum 
to  lay  aside  all  practices  against  the  person  of  Mr.  Eben- 
ezer  Cruickshanks,  in  which  injunction  the  page  seemed 
to  acquiesce  with  an  air  of  great  indifference. 

**  Ta  Duinhe-wassal  might  please  himsel  ;  ta  auld 
rudas  loon  had  never  done  Callum  nae  ill.  But  here's 
a  bit  line  frae  ta  Tighearna,  tat  he  bade  me  gie'  your 
honour  ere  I  came  back." 

The  letter  from  the  Chief  contained  Flora's  lines  on 
the  fate  of  Captain  Wogan,  whose  enterprizing  character 
is  so  well  drawn  by  Clarendon.  He  had  originally  en- 
gaged in  the  service  of  the  Parliament,  but  had  abjured 
that  party  upon  the  execution  of  Charles  I.,  and  upon 
hearing  that  the  royal  standard  was  set  up  by  tlie  Earl  of 
Glencairn  and  General  Middleton,  in  the  Highlands  of 
Scotland,  took  leave  of  Charles  II.  who  was  then  at 
Paris,  passed  into  England,  assembled  a  body  of  Cava- 
liers in  the  neighbourhood  of  London,  and  traversed  the 
kingdom,  which  had  been  so  long  under  domination  of 
the  usurper,  by  marches  conducted  with  such  skill,  dex- 
terity, and  spirit,  that  he  safely  united  his  handful  of 
horsemen  with  the  body  of  Highlanders  then  in  arms. 
After  several  months  of  desultory  warfare,  in  which  VVo- 

19       VOL.    I. 


218  WAVERLET. 

gan's  skill  and  courage  gained  him  the  highest  reputa- 
tion, he  had  the  misfortune  to  be  wounded  in  a  danger- 
ous manner,  and  no  surgical  assistance  being  within 
reach,  he  terminated  his  short  but  glorious  career. 

There  were  obvious  reasons  why  the  politic  Chieftain 
was  desirous  to  place  the  example  of  this  young  hero 
under  the  eye  of  Waverley,  with  whose  romantic  dispo- 
sition it  coincided  so  peculiarly.  But  his  letter  turned 
chiefly  upon  some  trifling  commissions  which  Waverley 
had  promised  to  execute  for  him  in  England,  and  it  was 
only  toward  the  conclusion  that  Edward  found  these 
words  : — "  I  owe  Flora  a  grudge  for  refusing  us  her 
company  yesterday  ;  and  as  I  am  giving  you  the  trouble 
of  reading  these  lines,  in  order  to  keep  in  your  memory 
your  promise  to  procure  me  the  fishing-tackle  and  cross- 
bow from  London,  I  will  enclose  her  verses  on  the  Grave 
of  Wogan.  This  I  know  will  teaze  her  ;  for,  to  tell  you 
the  truth,  I  think  her  more  in  love  with  the  memory  of 
that  dead  hero,  than  she  is  likely  to  be  with  any  living 
one,  unless  he  shall  tread  a  similar  path.  But  Enghsh 
squires  of  our  day  keep  their  oak  trees  to  shelter  their 
deer  parks,  or  repair  the  losses  of  an  evening  at  White's, 
and  neither  invoke  them  to  wreatii  their  brows,  or  shelter 
their  graves.  Let  me  hope  for  one  brilliant  exception 
in  a  dear  friend,  to  whom  I  would  gladly  give  a  dearer 
title." 

The  verses  were  inscribed, 

TO  AN  OAK  TREE, 

IS   THE   CHORCH-YARD  OF  ,  IN  THE  HIGHLANDS  OF    SCOTLAND,    SAID 

TO    MARK   THE    GRAVE   OF    CAPTAIN    WOGAN,   KILLED    IV    1649. 

Emblem  of  England's  ancient  faith, 

Full  proudly  may  ihy  branches  wave, 
Where  loyalty  lies  low  in  death, 

And  valour  fills  a  timeless  grave. 

And  thou,  brave  tenant  of  the  tomb  * 
Repine  not  if  our  clime  deny 


WAVERLEY.  219 

Above  thine  honour'd  sod  to  bloom. 
The  flowrets  of  a  milder  sky. 

These  owe  their  birth  to  genial  May  ; 

Beneath  a  fiercer  sun  they  pine, 
Before  the  winter  storm  decay — 

And  can  their  \s  orth  be  type  of  thine  ? 

No  !  for,  mid  stoniis  of  Fate  opposing, 

Still  higher  swell'd  thy  dauntless  heart, 
And,  while  Despair  the  scene  was  closing. 

Commenced  thy  brief  but  brilliant  part. 

'Twas  then  thou  songht'st  on  Albyn's  hill, 
(When  England's  sons  the  strife  resign'd.) 

A  rugged  race  resisting  still. 
An  unsubdued  though  unrefined. 

Thy  death's  hour  heard  no  kindred  wail, 

No  holy  knell  thy  requiem  rung  ; 
Thy  mourners  were  the  pi  aided  Gael, 

Thy  dirge  the  clamorous  pibroch  sung. 

Yet  who,  in  Fortune's  summer-shine 

To  waste  life's  longest  term  away. 
Would  change  that  glorious  dawn  of  thine. 

Though  darken'd  ere  its  noontide  day  ? 

Be  thine  the  Tree  whose  dauntless  boughs 
Brave  summer's  drought  and  winter's  gloom  ; 

Rome  bound  with  oak  her  patriots'  brows. 
As  Albyn  shadows  Wogaa's  tomb. 

Whatever  might  be  the  real  merit  of  Flora  Mac-Ivor's 
poetry,  the  enthusiasm  which  it  intimated  v/as  well  cal- 
culated to  make  a  corresponding  impression  upon  her 
lover.  The  lines  were  read — read  again — then  depos- 
ited in  Waverley's  bosom — then  again  draw^n  out,  and 
read  line  by  line,  in  a  low  and  smothered  voice,  and  with 
frequent  pauses  which  prolonged  the  mental  treat,  as  an 
Epicure  protracts,  by  sipping  slowly,  the  enjoyment  of  a 
delicious  beverage.  The  entrance  of  Mrs.  Cruick- 
shanks,  with  the  sublunary  articles  of  dinner  and  wine, 


220  WAVERLEY. 

hardly  interrupted  this  pantomime  of  affectionate  enthu- 
siasm. 

At  length  the  tall  ungainly  figure  and  ungracious  vis- 
age of  Ebenezer  presented  themselves.  The  upper 
part  of  his  form,  notwithstanding  the  season  required  no 
such  defence,  was  shrouded  in  a  large  great-coat,  belted 
over  his  under  habiliments,  and  crested  with  a  huge  cowl 
of  the  same  stuff,  which,  when  drawn  over  the  head  and 
hat,  completely  overshadowed  both,  and  being  buttoned 
beneath  the  chin,  was  called  a  trot-cozy.  His  hand 
grasped  a  huge  jockey-whip,  garnished  with  brass  mount- 
ing. His  thin  legs  tenanted  a  pair  of  gambadoes,  fast- 
ened at  the  sides  with  rusty  clasps.  Thus  accoutred,  he 
stalked  into  the  midst  of  the  apartment,  and  announced 
his  errand  in  brief  phrase  : — "  Ye're  horses  are  ready." 

"  You  go  with  me  yourself  then,  landlord  .^" 

"  I  do,  as  far  as  Perth  ;  where  ye  may  be  supphed 
with  a  guide  to  Embro',  as  your  occasions  shall  require." 

Thus  saying,  he  placed  under  Waverley's  eye  the  bill 
v.hich  he  held  in  his  hand  ;  and  at  the  same  time,  self- 
invited,  filled  a  glass  of  wine,  and  drank  devoutly  to  a 
blessing  on  their  journey.  Waverley  stared  at  the  man's 
impudence,  but,  as  their  connection  was  to  be  short,  and 
promised  to  be  convenient,  he  made  no  observation  upon 
it  ;  and,  having  paid  his  reckoning,  expressed  his  inten- 
tion to  depart  immediately.  He  mounted  Dermid  ac- 
cordingly, and  sallied  forth  from  the  Golden  Candlestick, 
followed  by  the  puritanical  figure  we  have  described, 
after  he  had,  at  the  expense  of  some  time  and  difficulty, 
and  by  the  assistance  of  a  "  louping-on-stane,"  or  struc- 
ture of  masonry  erected  for  the  traveller's  convenience 
in  front  of  the  house,  elevated  his  person  to  the  back  of 
a  long-backed,  raw-boned,  thin-gutted  phantom  of  a 
broken-down  blood-horse,  on  which  Waverley's  portman- 
teau was  deposited.  Our  hero,  though  not  in  a  very  gay 
humour,  could  hardly  help  laughing  at  the  appearance  of 
his  new  squire,  and  at  imagining  the  astonishment  which 
his  person  and  equipage  would  have  excited  at  Waverley- 
Honour. 


WAVERLET.  221 

Edward's  tendency  to  mirth  did  not  escape  mine  host 
of  the  Candlestick,  who,  conscious  of  the  cause,  infused 
a  double  portion  of  souring  into  the  pharasaical  leaven 
of  his  countenance,  and  resolved  internally  that,  in  one 
way  or  other,  the  young  Englishe?'  should  pay  dearly  foi 
the  contempt  with  which  he  seemed  to  regard  him. 
Galium  also  stood  at  the  gate,  and  enjoyed,  with  undis- 
sembled  glee,  the  ridiculous  figure  of  Mr.  Cruickshanks. 
As  Waverley  passed  him,  he  pulled  off  his  hat  respect- 
fully, and,  approaching  his  stirrup,  bade  him  "  Tak  heed 
the  auld  whig  deevil  played  him  nae  cantrip." 

Waverley  once  more  thanked,  and  bade  him  farewell, 
and  then  rode  briskly  onward,  not  sorry  to  be  out  of 
hearing  of  the  shouts  of  the  children,  as  they  beheld  old 
Ebenezer  rise  and  sink  in  his  stirrups,  to  avoid  the  con- 
cussions occasioned  by  a  hard  trot  upon  a  half-paved 
street.  The  village  of was  soon  several  miles  be- 
hind him. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

Shows  that  the  Loss  of  a  Horse's  Shoe  may  he  a  serious 
Inconvenience. 

The  manner  and  air  of  Waverley,  but,  above  all,  the 
ghttering  contents  of  his  purse,  and  the  indifference  with 
which  he  seemed  to  regard  them,  somewhat  overawed 
his  companion,  and  deterred  him  from  making  any  at- 
tempts to  enter  upon  conversation.  His  own  reflectionr; 
were  moreover  agitated  by  various  surmises,  and  by  plans 
of  self-interest,  with  which  these  were  intimately  con- 
nected. The  travellers  journeyed,  therefore,  in  silence, 
until  it  was  interrupted  by  the  annunciation,  on  the  pan 
of  the  guide,  that  his  "  naig  had  lost  a  fore-foot  sho?. 

19*        VOL.    I. 


222  WAVE  RLE  Y. 

which,  douDtless,  his  honour  would  consider  it  was  his 
part  to  replace."  This  was  what  lawyers  call  a  Jishing 
question,  calculated  to  ascertain  how  far  Waverley  was 
disposed  to  submit  to  petty  imposition.  "  My  part  to 
replace  your  horse's  shoe,  you  rascal  !"  said  Waverley, 
mistaking  the  purport  of  the  intimation. 

"Indubitably,"  answered  Mr.  Cruickshanks  ;  "though 
there  was  no  preceese  clause  to  that  effect,  it  canna  be  ex- 
pected that  I  am  to  pay  for  the  casuahies  whilk  may  be- 
fall the  puir  naig  while  in  your  honour's  service. — Nath- 
less  if  your  honour" 

"  O,  you  mean  I  am  to  pay  the  farrier  ;  but  where 
shall  we  find  one  .'*" 

Rejoiced  at  discerning  there  would  be  no  objection 
made  on  the  part  of  his  temporary  master,  Mr  Cruick- 
shanks assured  him  that  Cairnvreckan,  a  village  which 
they  were  about  to  enter,  was  happy  in  an  excellent 
blacksmith  ;  "  but  as  he  was  a  professor,  he  would  drive 
a  nail  for  no  man  on  the  Sabbath,  or  kirk-fast,  unless  it 
were  in  a  case  of  absolute  necessity,  for  which  he  always 
charsjed  sixpence  each  shoe."  The  most  important  part 
of  this  communication,  in  the  opinion  of  the  speaker, 
made  a  very  slight  impression  on  the  hearer,  who  only 
internally  wondered  what  college  this  veterinary  profes- 
sor belonged  to  ;  not  aware  that  the  word  was  used  to 
denote  any  person  who  pretended  to  uncommon  sanctity 
of  faith  and  manner. 

As  they  entered  the  village  of  Cairnvreckan,  they 
speedily  distinguished  the  smith's  house.  Being  also  a 
public,  it  was  two  stories  high,  and  proudly  reared  its 
crest,  covered  with  grey  slate,  above  the  thatched  hovels 
by  which  it  was  surrounded.  The  adjoining  smithy  be- 
tokened none  of  the  Sabbatical  silence  and  repose  which 
Ebenezer  had  augured  from  the  sanctity  of  his  friend. 
On  the  contrary,  hammer  clashed  and  anvil  rang,  the 
bellows  groaned,  and  the  whole  apparatus  of  Vulcan  ap- 
peared to  be  in  full  activity.  Nor  was  the  labour  of  a 
rur:^l  and  pacific  nature.  The  master  smith,  benempt, 
as  his  sign  intimated,  John  Mucklevvrath,  with  two  assist- 


WAVERLEY.  223 

ants,  toiled  busily  in  arranging,  repairing,  and  furbishing 
old  muskets,  pistols,  and  swords,  which  lay  scattered 
around  his  work-shop  in  military  confusion.  The  open 
shed,  containing  the  forge,  was  crowded  with  persons 
who  came  and  went  as  if  receiving  and  communicating 
important  news  ;  and  a  single  glance  at  the  aspect  of  the 
people  who  traversed  the  street  in  haste,  or  stood  as- 
sembled in  groups,  with  eyes  elevated,  and  hands  up- 
lifted, announced  that  some  extraordinary  intelligence 
was  agitating  the  public  mind  of  the  municipality  of 
Cairnvreckan.  "  There  is  some  news,"  said  mine  host 
of  the  Candlestick,  pushing  his  lanthern-jawed  visage 
and  bare-boned  nas;  rudely  forward  into  the  crowd — 
*'  there  is  some  news,  and  if  it  please  my  Creator,  I 
will  forthwith  obtain  speerings  thereof." 

Waverley,  with  better  regulated  curiosity  than  his  at- 
tendant, dismounted  and  gave  his  horse  to  a  boy  who 
stood  idling  near.  It  arose,  perhaps,  from  the  shyness 
of  his  character  in  early  youth,  that  he  felt  dishke  at 
applying  to  a  stranger  even  for  casual  information,  with- 
out previously  glancing  at  his  physiognomy  and  appear- 
ance. While  he  looked  about  in  order  to  select  the  per- 
son with  whom  he  would  most  willingly  hold  communi- 
cation, the  buzz  around  saved  him  in  some  degree  the 
trouble  of  interrogatories.  The  names  of  Lochiel,  Cian- 
ronald,  Glengary,  and  other  distinguished  Highland 
Chiefs,  among  whom  Vich  Ian  Vohr  was  repeatedly 
mentioned,  were  as  famihar  in  men's  months  as  house- 
hold words  ;  and  from  the  alarm  generally  expressed, 
he  easily  conceived  that  their  descent  into  the  Lowlands, 
at  the  head  of  their  armed  tribes,  had  either  already 
taken  place,  or  was  instantly  apprehended. 

Ere  Waverley  could  ask  particulars,  a  strong  large- 
boned,  hard-featured  woman,  about  forty,  dressed  as  if 
her  clothes  had  been  flung  on  with  a  pitchfork,  her  cheeks 
flushed  with  a  scarlet  red  where  they  were  not  smutted 
with  soot  and  lamp-black,  jostled  through  the  crowd, 
and,  brandishing;  high  a  child   of  two   vears  old,  which 


224  WAVERLEY. 

she  danced  in  her  arras,  without  regard  to  its  screams 
of  terror,  sang  forth,  with  all  her  might, — 

"  Charlie  is  my  darling,  my  darling,  my  darling, 
Charlie  is  my  darling. 

The  young  Chevalier." 

"  D'ye  hear  what's  come  ower  ye  now,  ye  whingeing 
whig  carles  f  D'ye  hear  wha's  coming  to  cow  yere 
cracks  ? 

"  Little  wot  ye  wha's  coming, 
Little  wot  ye  wha's  coming, 

A'  the  wild  Macraws  are  coming." 

The  Vulcan  of  Cairnvreckan,  who  acknowledged  his 
Venus  in  this  exulting  Bacchante,  regarded  her  with  a 
grim  and  ire-foreboding  countenance,  while  some  of  the 
senators  of  the  village  hastened  to  interpose.  "  Whisht, 
gudewife  ;  is  this  a  time,  or  is  this  a  day,  to  be  singing 
your  rantin  fule  sangs  in  ? — a  time  when  the  wine  of 
wrath  is  poured  out  without  mixture  in  the  cup  of  indig- 
nation, and  a  day  when  the  land  should  give  testimony 
against  popery  and  prelacy,  and  quakerism,  and  inde- 
pendency, and  supremacy,  and  eraslianism,  and  antino- 
mianism,  and  a'  the  errors  of  the  church." 

'*  And  that's  a'  your  whiggery,"  re-echoed  the  virago  ; 
*'  that's  a'  your  whiggery,  and  your  presbytery,  ye  cut- 
lugged  graning  carles  !  What  i  d'ye  think  the  lads  wi' 
the  kilts  will  care  for  yere  synods  and  yere  presbyteries, 
and  yere  buttock-mail,  and  yere  stool  o'  repentance  f 
Vengeance  on  the  black  face  o't  !  mony  an  honester 
woman's  been  set  upon  it  than  streeks  doon  beside  ony 
whig  in  the  country. .    I  mysei " 

Here  John  Mucklewrath,  who  dreaded  her  entering 
upon  a  detail   of  personal   experiences,   interposed   his 

matrimonial   authority.      "  Gae   hame,  and    be   d , 

(that  I  should  say  sae)  and  put  on  the  sowens  for  supper."' 

"  And  you,  ye  doii'd  dotard,"  replied  his  gentle  help- 
mate, her  wrath,  which  had  hitherto  wandered  abroad 
over  the  whole   assembly,  being  at  once   and  violently 


WAVE  RLE  Y.  226 

impelled  into  its  natural  channel,  "  ye  stand  there  ham- 
mering dog-heads  for  fules  that  will  never  snap  them  at 
a  Highlandman,  instead  of  earning  bread  for  your  family, 
and  shoeing  this  winsome  young  gentleman's  horse  that's 
just  come  frae  the  north.  I'se  warrant  him  nane  of  your 
whingeing  King  George  folk,  but  a  gallant  Gordon,  at 
the  least  o'  him." 

The  eyes  of  the  assembly  were  now  turned  upon  Wa- 
verley,  who  took  the  opportunity  to  beg  the  smith  to  shoe 
his  guide's  horse  with  all  speed,  as  he  wished  to  proceed 
on  his  journey  ;  for  he  had  heard  enough  to  make  him 
sensible  that  there  would  be  danger  in  delaying  long  in 
this  place.  The  smith's  eyes  rested  on  him  with  a  look 
of  displeasure  and  suspicion,  not  lessened  by  the  eager- 
ness with  which  his  wife  enforced  Waverley's  mandate. 
"  D'ye  hear  what  the  weel-favoured  young  gentleman 
says,  ye  drunken  ne'er-do-good  ?" 

"  And  what  may  your  name  be,  sir?"  quoth  Muckle- 
wrath. 

"  It  is  of  no  consequence  to  you,  my  friend,  provided 
I  pay  your  labour." 

"  But  it  may  be  of  consequence  to  the  state,  sir," 
replied  an  old  farmer,  smelling  strongly  of  whisky  and 
peat-smoke  ;  "  and  I  doubt  we  maun  delay  your  jour- 
ney till  you  have  seen  the  laird." 

"  You  certainly,"  said  Waverley,  haughtily,  "  will 
find  it  both  difficult  and  dangerous  to  detain  me,  unless 
you  can  produce  some  proper  authority." 

There  was  a  pause,  and  a  whisper  among  the  crowd 
— "  Secretary  Murray  ;"  "  Lord  Lewis  Gordon  ;"  ''  May 
be  the  Chevaher  himsel."  Such  were  the  surmises  that 
passed  hurriedly  among  them,  and  there  was  obviously 
an  increasing  disposition  to  resist  Waverley's  departure. 
He  attempted  to  argue  mildly  w4th  them,  but  his  v^olun- 
tary  ally,  Mrs.  Mucklewrath,  broke  in  upon  and  drown- 
ed his  expostulations,  taking  his  part  with  an  abusive 
violence,  which  was  all  set  down  to  Edward's  account 
by  those  on  whom  it  was  bestowed.  "  Fe'//  stop  ony 
gentleman   that's  the    Prince's  freend  V    for   she   too, 


226  WAVERLEY. 

though  with  other  feelings,  had  adopted  the  general  opin- 
ion respecting  Waverley.  "  I  daur  ye  to  touch  him," 
spreading  abroad  her  long  and  muscular  fingers,  garnish- 
ed with  claws  which  a  vulture  might  have  envied.  "  I'll 
set  my  ten  commandments  in  the  face  o'  the  first  loon 
that  lays  a  finger  on  him." 

"  Gae  hame,  gudewife,"  quotli  the  farmer  aforesaid  ; 
"  it  wad  better  set  you  to  be  nursing  the  gudeman's 
bairns   than  to  be  deaving  us  here." 

"  His  bairns  .^"  retorted  the  Amazon,  regarding  her 
husband  with  a  grin  of  ineffable  contempt — "  His  bairns  ! 

*  "  O  gin  ye  were  dead,  gudemein, 

".'  And  a  green  turf  on  your  head,  gudeman, 

^^  Then  I  wad  \\are  my  vNidowhood 

Upon  a  ranting  Highlandman." 

This  canticle,  which  excited  a  suppressed  titter  among 
the  younger  part  of  the  audience,  totally  overcame  the 
patience  of  the  taunted  man  of  the  anvil.  "  De'il  be 
in  me  but  I'll  put  this  bet  gad  down  her  throat,"  cried 
he  in  an  ecstacy  of  wrath,  snatching  a  bar  from  the  forge ; 
and  he  might  have  executed  his  threat,  had  he  not  been 
withheld  by  a  part  of  the  mob,  while  the  rest  endeav- 
oured to  force  the  termagant  out  of  his  presence. 

Waverley  meditated  a  retreat  in  the  confusion,  but  his 
horse  was  no  where  to  be  seen.  At  length  he  observed, 
at  some  distance,  his  faithful  attendant,  Ebenezer,  who, 
as  soon  as  he  had  perceived  the  turn  matters  were 
likely  to  take,  had  withdrawn  both  horses  from  the  press, 
and,  mounted  on  the  one,  and  holding  the  other,  answer- 
ed the  loud  and  repeated  calls  of  Waverley  for  his  horse, 
"  Na,  na !  if  ye  are  nae  friend  to  kirk  and  the  king,  and 
are  detained  as  siccan  a  person,  ye  maun  answer  to  hon- 
est men  of  the  country  for  breach  of  contract  ;  and  I 
maun  keep  the  naig  and  the  walise  for  damage  and  ex- 
pense, in  respect  my  horse  and  mysel  will  lose  to-mor- 
row's   day's-wark,   besides    the    afternoon    preaching." 

Edward,  out  of  patience,  hemmed  in  and  hustled  by  the 
rabble  on  every  side,  and  every  moment  expecting  per- 


WAVERLET.  227 

sonal  violence,  resolved  to  try  measures  of  intimidation, 
and  at  length  drew  a  pocket-pistol,  threatening,  on  the 
one  hand,  to  shoot  whomsoever  dared  to  stop  him,  and 
on  the  other  menacing  Ebenezer  with  a  similar  doom, 
if  he  stirred  a  foot  with  the  horses.  The  sapient  Part- 
ridge says,  that  one  man  with  a  pistol  is  equal  to  a  hun- 
dred unarmed,  because,  though  he  can  shoot  but  one  of 
the  multitude,  yet  no  one  knows  but  that  he  himself  may 
be  that  luckless  individual.  The  levy  en  masse  of  Cairn- 
vreckan  would  therefore  probably  have  given  way,  nor 
would  Ebenezer,  whose  natural  paleness  had  waxed 
three  shades  more  cadaverous,  have  ventured  to  dispute 
a  mandate  so  enforced,  had  not  the  Vulcan  of  the  vil- 
lage, eager  to  discharge  upon  some  more  worthy  object 
the  fury  which  his  helpmate  had  provoked,  and  not  ill 
satisfied"  to  find  such  an  object  in  Waverley,  rushed  at 
him  with  the  red-hot  bar  of  iron,  with  such  determination, 
as  made  the  discharge  of  his  pistol  an  act  of  self-defence.. 
The  unfortunate  man  fell  ;  and  while  Edward,  thrilled 
with  a  natural  horror  at  the  incident,  neither  had  pres- 
ence of  mind  to  unsheath  his  sword,  nor  to  draw  his 
remaining  pistol,  the  populace  threw  themselves  upon 
him,  disarmed  him,  and  were  about  to  use  him  with 
great  violence,  when  the  appearance  of  a  venerable 
clergyman,  the  pastor  of  the  parish,  put  a  curb  upon 
their  fury. 

This  worthy  man  (none  of  the  Goukthrapples  or  Ren- 
towels)  maintained  his  character  with  the  common  peo- 
ple, although  he  preached  the  practical  fruits  of  Christian 
faith,  as  well  as  its  abstract  tenets,  and  was  respected  by 
the  higher  orders,  notwithstanding  he  decHned  soothing 
their  speculative  errors  by  converting  the  pulpit  of  the 
gospel  into  a  school  of  heathen  morality.  Perhaps  it  is 
owing  to  this  mixture  of  faith  and  practice  in  his  doc- 
trine, that,  ahhough  his  memory  has  formed  a  sort  of 
era  in  the  annaJs  of  Cairnvreckan,  so  that  the  parishion- 
ers, to  denote  what  befell  Sixty  Years  Since,  still  say  it 
happened  "  in  good  Mr.  Morton's  time,"  I  have  never 
been  able  to  discover   which  he  belonged   to,  the  evan- 


228  WAVERLEY. 

gellc  or  the  moderate  party  in  the  kirk.  Nor  do  I  hold 
the  circumstance  of  much  moment,  since,  in  my  own 
remembrance,  the  one  was  headed  by  an  Erskine,  the 
other  by  a  Robertson. 

Mr.  Morton  had  been  alarmed  by  the  discharge  of  the 
pistol,  and  the  increasing  hubbub  around  the  smithy. 
His  first  attention,  after  he  had  directed  the  bystanders 
to  detain  Waverley,  but  to  abstain  from  injuring  him, 
w^as  turned  to  the  body  of  Mucklewrath,  over  which  his 
wife,  in  a  revulsion  of  feeling,  was  weeping,  howling, 
and  tearing  her  elf  locks,  in  a  state  little  short  of  dis- 
traction. Upon  raising  up  the  smith,  the  first  discovery 
was,  that  he  was  alive  ;  and  the  next,  that  he  was  hkely 
to  live  as  long  as  if  he  had  never  heard  the  report  of  a 
pistol  in  his  life.  He  had  made  a  narrow  escape,  how- 
ever ;  the  bullet  had  grazed  his  head,  and  stunned  him 
for  a  moment  or  two,  which  trance,  terror  and  confusion 
of  spirit  had  prolonged  somewhat  longer.  He  now  arose 
to  demand  vengeance  on  the  person  of  Waverley,  and 
with  difficulty  acquiesced  in  the  proposal  of  Mr.  Morton, 
that  be  should  be  carried  before  the  laird,  as  a  justice 
of  peace,  and  placed  at  his  disposal.  The  rest  of  the 
assistants  unanimously  agreed  to  the  measure  recom- 
mended ;  even  Mrs.  Mucklewrath,  who  had  begun  to 
recover  from  her  hysterics,  whimpered  forth, — "  She 
wadna  say  naething  against  what  the  minister  proposed  ; 
he  was  e'en  ower  gude  for  his  trade,  and  she  hoped  to 
see  him  wi'  a  dainty  decent  bishop's  gown  on  his  back  ; 
a  comelier  sight  than  your  Geneva  cloaks  and  bands, 
I  wis." 

All  controversy  being  thus  laid  aside,  Waverley,  es- 
corted by  the  whole  inhabitants  of  the  village,  who  were 
not  bed-ridden,  was  conducted  to  the  house  of  Cairn- 
vreckan,  which  was  about  half  a  mile  distant. 


WAYERI^EY 


229 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

An  Examination. 

Major  Melville  of  Cairnvreckan,  an  elderly  gen- 
tleman, who  had  spent  his  youth  in  the  mihtary  service, 
received  Mr.  Morton  with  great  kindness,  and  our  hero 
with  civiHty,  which  the  equivocal  circumstances  wherein 
Edward   was  placed,  rendered    constrained  and  distant. 

The  nature  of  the  smith's  hurt  was  inquired  into,  and 
as  the  actual  injury  was  likely  to  prove  trifling,  and  the 
circumstances  in  which  it  was  received,  rendered  the 
infliction,  on  Edward's  part,  a  natural  act  of  self-defence, 
the  Major  conceived  he  might  dismiss  that  matter,  on 
Waverley's  despositing  in  his  hands  a  small  sum  for  the 
benefit  of  the  wounded  person. 

"  I  could  wish,  sir,"  continued  the  Major,  "  that  my 
duty  terminated  here  ;  but  it  is  necessary  that  we  should 
have  some  further  inquiry  into  the  cause  of  your  journey 
through  the  country  at  this  unfortunate  and  distracted 
time." 

Mr.  Ebenezer  Cruickshanks  now  stood  forth,  and  com- 
municated to  the  magistrate  all  he  knew  or  suspected, 
from  the  reserve  of  Waverley,  and  the  evasions  of  Gal- 
ium Beg.  The  horse  upon  which  Edward  rode,  he 
said,  he  knew  to  belong  to  Vich  Ian  Vohr,  though  he 
dared  not  tax  Edward's  former  attendant  with  the  fact, 
lest  he  should  have  his  house  and  stables  burnt  over  his 
head  some  night  by  that  godless  gang,  the  Mac-Ivors. 
He  concluded  by  exaggerating  his  own  services  to  kirk 
and  state,  as  having  been  the  means,  under  God,  (as  he 
modestly  qualified  the  assertion)  of  attaching  this  suspic- 
ious and  formidable  delinquent.  He  intimated  hopes  of 
future  reward,  and  of  instant  reimbursement  for  loss  of 
20     VOL.   I. 


230  AVAVETtLEY. 

time,  and  even  of  character,  by  travelling   in  the  state 
business  upon  the  fast-day. 

To  this  Major  Melville  answered,  with  great  compo- 
sure, that  so  far  from  claiming  any  merit  in  this  affair, 
Mr.  Cruickshanks  ought  to  deprecate  the  imposition  of 
a  very  heavy  fine  for  neglecting  to  lodge,  in  terms  of  the 
recent  proclamation,  an  account  with  the  nearest  magis- 
trate of  any  stranger  who  came  to  his  inn  ;  that  as  Mr. 
Cruickshanks  boasted  so  much  of  religion  and  loyalty, 
he  should  not  impute  this  conduct  to  disaffection,  but 
only  suppose  that  his  zeal  for  kirk  and  state  had  been 
lulled  asleep  by  the  opportunity  of  charging  a  stranger 
with  double  horse-hire  ;  that,  however,  feeling  himself 
incompetent  to  decide  singly  upon  the  conduct  of  a  per- 
son of  such  importance,  he  should  reserve  it  for  consid- 
eration of  the  next  quarter-sessions.  Now  our  history 
for  the  present  saith  no  more  of  him  of  the  Candlestick, 
■\7ho  wended  dolorous  and  mal-content  back  to  his  own 
dwelling. 

??lajor  Melville  then  commanded  the  villagers  to  re- 
turn to  their  homes,  excepting  two,  who  officiated  as 
constables,  and  whom  he  directed  to  vrait  below.  The 
apartment  was  thus  cleared  of  every  person  but  Mr. 
Morton,  whom  the  Major  invited  to  remain  ;  a  sort  of 
factor,  who  acted  as  clerk  ;  and  Waverley  himself. 
There  ensued  a  painful  and  embarrassed  pause,  till  Ma- 
jor Melville,  looking  upon  Waverley  with  much  compas- 
bion,  and  often  consulting  a  paper  or  memorandum  which 
he  held  in  his  hand,  requested  to  know  his  name. — 

"  Edward  Waverley." 

'^  I  thought  so ;  late  of  the dragoons,  and  neph- 

^ew  of  Sir  Everard  Waverley,  of  Waverley-Honour  ?" 

"  The  same." 

"  Young  gentleman,  1  am  extremely  sorry  that  this 
painful  duty  has  fallen  to  my  lot." 

"  Duty, Major  Melville,renders  apologies  superfluous." 

'*  True,  sir  ;  permit  me,  therefore,  to  ask  you  how 
your  time  has  been  disposed  of  since  you  obtained  leave 


WAVERLEY.  231 

of  absence  from  your  regiment,  several  weeks  ago,  un- 
til  the  present  moment  ?" 

"  My  reply  to  so  general  a  question  must  be  guided 
by  the  nature  of  the  charge  which  renders  it  necessary. 
I  request  to  know  what  that  charge  is,  and  upon  what 
authority  I  am  forcibly  detained  to  reply  to  it  f" 

"  The  charge,  Mr.  Waverley,  I  grieve  to  say,  is  of  a 
very  high  nature,  and  affects  your  character  both  as  a 
soldier  and  a  subject.  In  the  former  capacity,  you  are 
charged  with  spreading  mutiny  and  rebellion  among  the 
men  you  commanded,  and  setting  them  the  example  of 
desertion,  by  prolonging  your  own  absence  from  the  reg- 
iment, contrary  to  the  express  orders  of  your  command- 
ing officer.  The  civil  crime  of  which  you  stand  accused 
is  that  of  high-treason,  and  levying  war  against  the  king, 
the  highest  delinquency  of  which  a  subject  can  be 
guilty." 

"  And  by  what  authority  am  I  detained  to  reply  to 
such  heinous  calumnies  f" 

"  By  one  which  you  must  not  dispute,  or  I  disobey.'* 

He  handed  to  Waverley  a  warrant  from  the  Supreme 
Criminal  Court  of  Scotland,  in  full  form,  for  apprehend- 
ing and  securing  the  person  of  Edward  Waverley,  Esq. 
suspected  of  treasonable  practices,  and  other  high  crimes 
and  misdemeanours. 

The  astonishment  which  Waverley  expressed  at  this 
communication  was  imputed  by  Major  Melville  to  con- 
scious guilt,  while  Mr.  ^Morton  was  rather  disposed  to 
construe  it  into  the  surprise  of  innocence  unjustly  sus- 
pected. There  was  something  true  in  both  conjectures  : 
for  although  Edward's  mind  acquitted  him  of  the  crimes 
with  which  he  was  charged,  yet  a  hasty  review  of  his 
own  conduct  convinced  him  he  might  have  great  difficulty 
in  establishing  his  innocence  to  the  satisfaction  of  others. 

"  It  is  a  very  painful  part  of  this  painful  business," 
said  Major  Melville,  after  a  pause,  "  that,  under  so  grave 
a  charge,  1  must  necessarily  request  to  see  such  papers  as 
you  have  on  your  person." 


232  WAVERLEY. 

"  You  shall,  sir,  without  reserve,"  said  Edward, 
throwing  his  pocket-hook  and  memorandums  upon  the 
table  ;  "  there  is  but  one  with  which  I  could  wish  you 
would  dispense." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  can  indulge  you  with  no  reservation." 

"  You  shall  see  it  then,  sir  ;  and  as  it  can  be  of  no 
service,  I  beg  it  may  be  returned." 

He  took  from  his  bosom  the  lines  he  had  that  morn- 
ing received,  and  presented  them  with  the  envelope. 
The  Major  perused  them  in  silence,  and  directed  his 
clerk  to  make  a  copy  of  them.  He  then  wrapped  the 
copy  in  the  envelope,  and  placing  it  on  the  table  before 
him,  returned  the  original  to  Waverley,  with  an  air  of 
melancholy  gravity. 

After  indulging  the  prisoner,  for  such  our  hero  must 
now^  be  considered,  with  what  he  thought  a  reasonable 
time  for  reflection.  Major  Melville  resumed  his  examina- 
tion, premising,  that,  as  Mr.  Waverley  seemed  to  object 
to  general  questions,  his  interrogatories  should  be  as 
specific  as  his  information  permitted.  He  then  proceed- 
ed in  his  investigation,  dictating,  as  he  went  on,  the  im- 
port of  the  questions  and  answers  to  the  amanuensis,  by 
whom  it  was  written  down. 

"  Did  Mr.  Waverley  know  one  Humphry  Houghton,  a 
non-commissioned  officer  in  G 's  dragoons  .^" 

"  Certainly  ;  he  was  serjeant  of  my  troop,  and  son  of 
a  tenant  of  my  uncle." 

"  Exactly — and  had  a  considerable  share  of  your 
confidence,  and  an  influence  among  his  comrades  .^" 

"  I  had  never  occasion  to  repose  confidence  in  a  per- 
son of  his  description.  I  favoured  Serjeant  Houghton  as 
a  clever,  active  young  fellow,  and  I  beheve  his  fellow- 
soldiers  respected  him  accordingly." 

"  But  you  used  through  this  man  to  communicate  with 
such  of  your  troop  as  were  recruited  upon  Waverley- 
Honour  ?" 

"  Certainly  ;  the  poor  fellows,  finding  themselves  in  a 
regiment  chiefly  composed  of  Scotch  or  Irish,  looked  up 
to  me  in  any  of  their  little  distresses,  and  naturally  made 


WAVERLET.  233 

their  countryman,  and  serjeant,  their  spokesman  on  such 
occasions." 

"  His  influence,  then,  extended  particularly  over  those 
soldiers  who  followed  you  to  tlie  regiment  from  your 
uncle's  estate  ?" 

"  Surely  ; — but  what  is  that  to  the  present  purpose  :" 

"  To  that  I  am  just  coaling,  and  I  beseech  your  can- 
did reply.  Have  you,  since  leaving  the  regiment,  held 
any  correspondence,  direct  or  indirect,  with  this  Serjeant 
Houghton  ?" 

*'  I  ! — I  hold  correspondence  with  a  man  of  his  rank 
and  situation  ! — How,  or  for  what  purpose  r" 

"  That  you  are  to  explain  ; — but  did  you  not  for  ex- 
ample, send  to  him  for  some  books  f " 

"  You  remind  me  of  a  trifling  commission  which  I 
gave  him,  because  my  servant  could  not  read.  I  do  re- 
collect I  bade  him,  by  letter,  select  some  books,  of  which 
I  sent  him  a  list,  and  send  them  to  me  atTulIy-Veolan." 

"  And  of  what  description  were  those  books  f" 

<*  They  related  almost  entirely  to  elegant  hterature  : 
they  were  designed  for  a  lady's  perusal." 

"  Were  there  not,  Mr.  Waverley,  treasonable  tracts 
and  pamphlets  among  them  ?" 

"  There  were  some  political  treatises,  into  which  I- 
hardly  looked.  They  had  been  sent  to  me  by  the  offi- 
ciousness  of  a  kind  friend,  whose  heart  is  more  to  be 
esteemed  than  his  prudence  or  political  sagacity  :  they 
seemed  to  be  dull  compositions." 

''  That  friend  was  a  Mr.  Pembroke,  a  nonjuring 
clergyman,  the  author  of  two  treasonable  works,  of 
which  the  manuscripts  were  found  among  your  baggage.'^" 

"  But  of  which,  I  give  you  my  honour  as  a  gentleman, 
I  never  read  six  pages." 

"  1  am  not  your  jud2:e,  Mr.  Waverley  ;  your  exami- 
nation v.ill  be  transmitted  elsewhere.  And  now  to  pro- 
ceed— Do  you  know  a  person  that  passes  by  the  name 
of  Wily  Will,  or  Will  Ruthven  .=>" 

"  I  never  heard  of  such  a  name  till  this  moment,'^ 
20*     VOL.  I, 


234  WATERLEY. 

"  Did  you  never  through  such  a  person,  or  any  other 
person,  communicate  with  Serjeant  Humphry  Houghton, 
instigating  him  to  desert,  with  as  many  of  his  comrades 
as  he  could  seduce  to  join  him,  and  unite  with  the  High- 
landers and  other  rebels  now  in  arms,  under  the  com- 
mand of  the  young  Pretender  ?" 

"  I  assure  you  I  am  not  only  entirely  guiltless  of  the 
plot  you  have  laid  to  my  charge,  but  J  detest  it  from  the 
very  bottom  of  my  soul,  nor  would  I  be  guilty  of  such 
treachery  to  gain  a  throne,  either  for  myself  or  any  other 
man  alive." 

"  Yet  when  I  consider  this  envelope,  in  the  hand  of 
one  of  those  misguided  gentlemen  who  are  now  in  arms 
against  this  country,  and  the  verses  which  it  inclosed,  I 
cannot  but  find  some  analogy  between  the  enterprize  I 
have  mentioned  and  the  exploit  of  Wogan,  which  the 
writer  seems  to  expect  you  should  imitate." 

Waverley  was  struck  with  the  coincidence,  but  denied 
that  the  wishes  or  expectations  of  the  letter-writer  were 
to  be  regarded  as  proofs  of  a  charge  otherwise  chi- 
merical. 

*'  But  if  I  am  rightly  informed,  your  time  was  spent, 
during  your  absence  from  the  regiment,  between  the 
house  of  this  Highland  Chieftain,  and  that  of  Mr.  Brad- 
wardine,  of  Bradwardine,  also  in  arms  for  this  unfortu- 
nate cause  .^" 

"  I  do  not  mean  to  disguise  it  ;  but  I  do  deny,  most 
resolutely,  being  privy  to  any  of  their  designs  against  the 
government." 

"  You  do  not,  however,  I  presume,  intend  to  deny, 
that  you  attended  your  host  Glennaquoich  to  a  rendez- 
vous, where,  under  pretence  of  a  general  hunting  match, 
most  of  the  accomplices  of  his  treason  were  assembled 
to  concert  measures  for  taking  arms  .^" 

"  1  acknov^^ledge  having  been  at  such  a  meeting  ;  but 
I  neither  heard  nor  saw  any  thing  which  could  give  it  the 
character  you  affix  to  it." 

*'  From  thence  you  proceeded,  with  Glennaquoich 
and  a  part  of  his  clan,  to  join   the   army  of  the  young 


WAVERLEY.  235 

Pretender,  and  returned,  after  having  paid  your  homage 
to  him,  to  discipline  and  arm  the  remainder,  and  unite 
them  to  his  bands  on  their  way  southward  ?" 

"  I  never  went  with  Glennaquoich  on  such  an  errand. 
I  never  so  much  as  heard  that  the  person  whom  you 
mention  was  in  the  country." 

He  then  detailed  the  history  of  his  misfortune  at  the 
hunting  match,  and  added,  that  on  his  return  he  found 
himself  suddenly  deprived  of  his  commission,  and  did 
not  deny  that  he  then,  for  the  first  time,'  observed  symp- 
toms which  indicated  a  disposition  in  the  Highlanders  to 
take  arms  ;  but  added,  that  having  no  inchnation  to  join 
their  cause,  and  no  longer  any  reason  for  remaining  in 
Scotland,  he  was  now  on  his  return  to  his  native  country, 
to  which  he  had  been  summoned  by  those  who  had  a 
right  to  direct  his  motions,  as  Major  Melville  would 
perceive  from  the  letters  on  the  table. 

Major  Melville  accordingly  perused  the  letters  of 
-Richard  Waverley,  of  Sir  Everard,  and  of  Aunt  Ra- 
chael,  but  the  inferences  he  drew  from  them  were  differ- 
ent from  what  Waverley  expected.  They  held  the  lan- 
guage of  discontent  with  government,  threw  out  no 
obscure  hints  of  revenge,  and  that  of  poor  Aunt  Rachael, 
which  plainly  asserted  the  justice  of  the  Stuart  cause, 
was  held  to  contain  the  open  avowal  of  what  the  others 
only  ventured  to  intimate. 

"  Permit  me  another  question,  Mr.  Waverley.  Did 
you  not  receive  repeated  letters  from  your  commanding 
officer,  warning  you,  and  commanding  you  to  return  to 
your  post,  and  acquainting  you  with  the  use  made  of  your 
name  to  spread  discontent  through  your  soldiers  ?" 

"  I  never  did,  Major  Melville.  One  letter,  indeed,  I 
received  from  him,  containing  a  civil  intimation  of  his 
wish  that  I  would  employ  my  leave  of  absence  otherwise 
than  in  constant  residence  at  Bradwardine,  as  to  which, 
I  own,  I  thought  he  was  not  called  upon  to  interfere  ; 
and,  finally,  I  had,  on  the  same  day  in  which  I  observed 
myself  superseded  in  the  Gazette,  a  second  letter  from 
Col.  G ',  commanding  me  to  join  the  regiment,  an 


236  WAVERLEY. 

order  which,  owing  to  my  absence,  ah'eady  mentioned 
and  accounted  for,  I  received  too  late  to  be  obeyed.  If 
there  were    any  intermediate  letters,  and  certainly  from 

Colonel  G 's  high  character  I  think  it  probable  that 

there  were,  they  have  never  reached  me." 

"  I  have  omitted,  Mr.  Waverley,  to  inquire  after  a 
matter  of  less  consequence,  but  which  has  nevertheless 
been  publicly  talked  of  to  your  disadvantage.  It  is  said 
that  a  treasonable  toast  having  been  proposed  in  your 
hearing  and  presence,  you,  holding  his  Majesty's  commis- 
sion, suffered  the  task  of  resenting  it  to  devolve  upon 
another  gentleman  of  the  company.  This,  sir,  cannot 
be  charged  against  you  in  a  court  of  justice  ;  but  if,  asl- 
am  informed,  the  officers  of  your  regiment  requested  an 
explanation  of  such  a  rumour,  as  a  gentleman  and  sol- 
dier, I  cannot  but  be  surprised  that  you  did  not  afford  it 
to  them." 

This  was  too  much.  Beset  and  pressed  on  every 
hand  by  accusations,  in  which  gross  falsehoods  were 
blended  with  such  circumstances  of  truth  as  could  not 
fail  to  procure  them  credit. — alone^  unfriended,  and  in  a 
strange  land,  Waverley  almost  gave  up  his  life  and  hon- 
our for  lost,  and  leaning  his  head  upon  his  hand,  reso- 
lutely refused  to  answer  any  further  questions,  since  the 
fair  and  candid  statement  he  had  already  made  had  only 
served  to  furnish  arms  against  him. 

Without  expressing  either  surprise  or  displeasure  at 
the  change  in  Waverley's  manner.  Major  'Melville  pro- 
ceeded composedly  to  put  several  other  queries  to  him. 
*'  What  does  it  avail  me  to  answer  you  ?^^  said  Edward  sul- 
lenly. "  You  appear  convinced  of  my  guilt,  and  wrest 
every  reply  I  have  made  to  support  your  own  preconceived 
opinion.  Enjoy  it  then,  and  torment  me  no  further.  If 
I  am  capable  of  the  cowardice  and  treachery  your 
charge  burdens  me  with,  I  am  not  worthy  to  be  believed 
in  any  reply  I  can  make  you.  If  I  am  not  deserving  of 
your  suspicion — and  God  and  my  own  conscience  bear 
evidence  with  me  that  it  is  so — then  I  do  not  see  why  I 
should,  by  my  candour,  lend   my  accusers  arms  against 


WAVE  RLE  T. 


237 


my  innocence.  There  is  no  reason  I  should  answer  a 
word  more."  And  again  he  resumed  his  posture  of  sul- 
len and  determined  silence. 

"  Allow  me,"  said  the  magistrate,  "  to  remind  you 
of  one  reason  that  may  suggest  the  propriety  of  a  can- 
did and  open  confession.  The  inexperience  of  youth, 
Mr.  Waverley,  lays  it  open  to  the  plans  of  the  more  de- 
signing and  artful  ;  and  one  of  your  friends  at  least — I 
mean  Mac-Ivor  of  Glennaquoich — ranks  high  in  the  lat- 
ter class,  as,  from  your  apparent  ingenuousness,  youth, 
and  unacquaintance  with  the  manners  of  the  Highlands,  I 
should  be  disposed  to  place  you  among  the  former. 
In  such  a  case,  a  false  step,  or  error  like  yours,  which  I 
shall  be  happy  to  consider  as  involuntary,  may  be  atoned 
for,  and  I  would  Vvillingly  act  as  intercessor.  But  as 
you  must  necessarily  be  acquainted  with  the  strength  of 
the  individuals  in  this  country  who  have  assumed  arms, 
with  their  means,  and  with  their  plans,  T  must  expect  you 
will  merit  this  mediation  on  my  part  by  a  frank  and  can- 
did avowal  of  all  that  has  come  to  your  knowledge  upon 
these  heads.  In  which  case,  I  think  I  can  promise  that 
a  very  short  personal  restraint  will  be  the  only  ill  con- 
sequence that  can  arise  from  your  accession  to  these 
unhappy  intrigues." 

Waverley  listened  with  great  composure  until  the  end 
of  this  exhortation,  when,  springing  from  his  seat,  with 
an  energy  he  had  not  yet  displayed,  he  replied, 
'*  Major  Melville,  since  that  is  your  name,  I  have  hith- 
erto answered  your  questions  with  candour,  or  declined 
them  with  temper,  because  their  import  concerned  my- 
self alone.  But  as  you  presume  to  esteem  me  mean 
enough  to  commence  informer  against  others,  who  re- 
ceived me — whatever  may  be  their  public  misconduct — 
as  a  guest  and  friend, — I  declare  to  you  that  I  consider 
your  questions  as  an  insult  infinitely  more  offensive  than 
your  calumnious  suspicions  ;  and  that,  since  my  hard 
fortune  permits  me  no  other  mode  of  resenting  them  than 
by  verbal  defiance,  you  should  sooner  have  my  heart 
out  of  my  bosom,  than  a  single   syllable  of  information 


238  WAVERLEY. 

upon  subjects  which  I  could  only  become  acquainted 
with  in  the  full  confidence  of  unsuspecting  hospitality." 

Mr.  Morton  and  the  Major  looked  at  each  other,  and 
the  former,  who,  in  the  course  of  the  examination ;  had 
been  repeatedly  troubled  with  a  sorry  rheum,  had  re- 
course to  his  snufF-box  and  his  handkerchief. 

"  Mr.  Waverley,"  said  the  Major,  "  my  present  situ- 
ation prohibits  me  ahke  from  giving  or  receiving  offence, 
and  I  will  not  protract  a  discussion  which  approaches  to 
either.  I  am  afraid  I  must  sign  a  warrant  for  detaining 
you  in  custody,  but  this  house  shall  for  the  present  be 
your  prison.  I  fear  I  cannot  persuade  you  to  accept  a 
share  of  our  supper  ? — (Edward  shook  his  head) — but 
I  will  order  refreshments  in  your  apartment." 

Our  hero  bowed  and  withdrew,  under  guard  of  the 
officers  of  justice,  to  a  handsome  but  small  room,  where, 
declining  all  offers  of  food  or  wine,  he  flung  himself  on 
the  bed,  and,  stupified  by  the  harassing  events  and  men- 
tal fatigue  of  this  miserable  day,  he  sunk  into  a  deep  and 
heavy  slumber.  This  was  more  than  he  himself  could 
have  expected  ;  but  it  is  mentioned  of  the  North  Amer- 
ican Indians,  when  at  the  stake  of  torture,  that  on  the 
least  intermission  of  agony,  they  will  sleep  until  the  fire 
is  applied  to  awaken  them. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

A   Conference^  and  the   Consequence. 

Major  Melville  had  detained  Mr.  Morton  during 
his  examination  of  Waverley,  both  because  he  thought 
he  might  derive  assistance  from  his  practical  good  sense 
and  approved  loyalty,  and  also  because  it  was  agreeable 
to  have  a  witness  of  unimpeached  candour  and  veracity 
to  proceedings  which  touched  the  honour  and  safety  of 


WAVERLET.  239 

a  young  Englishman  of  high  rank  and  family,  and  the 
expectant  heir  of  a  large  fortune.  Ev^ery  step  he  knew 
would  be  rigorously  canvassed,  and  it  was  his  business 
to  place  the  justice  and  integrity  of  his  own  conduct  be- 
yond the  limits  of  question. 

When  Waverley  retired,  the  Laird  and  Clergyman  of 
Cairnvreckan  sat  down  in  silence  to  their  evening  meal. 
While  the  servants  were  in  attendance,  neither  chose  to 
say  any  thing  on  the  circumstances  v.hich  occupied  their 
minds,  and  neither  felt  at  ease  to  speak  upon  any  other. 
The  youth  and  apparent  frankness  of  Waverley,  stood  in 
strong  contrast  to  the  shades  of  suspicion  which  darken- 
ed around  him,  and  he  had  a  sort  of  naivete  and  open- 
ness of  demeanour,  that  seemed  to  belong  to  one  un- 
hackneyed in  the  ways  of  intrigue,  and  which  pleaded 
highly  in  his  favour. 

Each  mused  over  the  particulars  of  the  examination, 
and  each  viewed  it  through  the  medium  of  his  own 
feelings.  Both  were  men  of  ready  and  acute  talent,  and 
both  were  equally  competent  to  combine  various  parts 
of  evidence,  and  to  deduce  from  them  the  necessary 
conclusions.  But  the  wide  difference  of  their  habits  and 
education  often  occasioned  a  great  discrepancy  in  their 
respective  deductions  from  admitted  premises. 

Major  Melville  had  been  versed  in  camps  and  cities  ; 
he  was  vigilant  by  profession,  and  cautious  from  experi- 
ence, had  met  with  much  evil  in  the  world,  and  therefore, 
though  himself  an  upright  magistrate  and  an  honourable 
man,  his  opinions  of  others  were  always  strict,  and  some- 
times unjustly  severe.  Mr.  Morton,  on  the  contrary, 
had  passed  from  the  hterary  pursuits  of  a  college,  where 
}ie  was  beloved  by  his  companions  and  respected  by  his 
teachers,  to  the  ease  and  simplicity  of  his  present  charge, 
where  his  opportunities  of  witnessing  evil  were  few,  and 
never  dwelt  upon,  but  in  order  to  encourage  repentance 
and  amendment  ;  and  where  the  love  and  respect  of  his 
parishoners  repaid  his  affectionate  zeal  in  their  behalf, 
by  endeavouring  to  disguise  from  him  what  they  knev/ 
would  give  him  the  most  acute  pain, — their  own  occa- 


240  AVAVERIEY. 

sional  transgressions,  namely,  of  the  duties  which  it  was 
the  business  of  his  hfe  to  recommend.  Thus  it  was  a 
common  saying  in  the  neighbourhood,  (though  both  were 
popular  characters)  that  the  laird  knew  only  the  ill  in 
the  parish,  and  the  minister  only  the  good. 

A  love  of  letters,  though  kept  in  subordination  to  his 
clerical  studies  and  duties,  also  distinguished  the  Pastor 
of  Cairnvreckan,  and  had  tinged  his  mind  in  earlier  days 
with  a  slight  feeling  of  romance,  which  no  after  incidents 
of  real  life  had  entirely  dissipated.  The  early  loss  of 
an  amiable  young  woman,  whom  he  had  married  for 
love,  and  who  was  quickly  followed  to  the  grave  by  an 
only  child,  had  also  served,  even  after  the  lapse  of  many 
years,  to  soften  and  enhance  a  disposition  naturally  mild 
and  contemplative.  His  feelings  on  the  present  occasion 
were  therefore  likely  to  differ  from  those  of  the  severe 
disciplinarian,  strict  magistrate,  and  distrustful  man  of 
the  world. 

When  the  servants  had  withdrawn,  the  silence  of  both 
parties  continued,  until  Major  Melville,  filling  his  glass, 
and  pushing  the  bottle  to  Mr.  Morton,  commenced. 

"  A  distressing  affair  this,  Mr.  Morton.  1  fear  this 
voun2;ster  has  brought  himself  within  the  compass  of  a 
haher." 

"  God  forbid  !"  answered  the  clergyman. 

"  Marry  and  amen,"  said  the  temporal  magistrate  ; 
"  but  I  think  even  your  merciful  logic  will  hardly  deny 
the  conclusion." 

"  Surely,  Major,  I  should  hope  it  might  be  averted, 
for  aught  we  have  heard  to-night." 

"  Indeed  ! — But,  my  good  parson,  you  are  one  of 
those  who  would  communicate  to  every  criminal  the  ben- 
efit of  clergy." 

"  Unquestionably  I  would  :  Mercy  and  long-suffering 
are  the  grounds  of  the  doctrine  1  am  called  to  teach." 

"  True,  religiously  speaking  ;  but  mercy  to  a  criminal 
may  be  gross  injustice  to  the  community.  I  don't  speak 
of  this  young   fellow  in  particular,  who  I  heartily   wish 


WAVERtEY. 


241 


may  be  able  to  clear  himself,  for  I  like  both  his  modesty 
and  his  spirit.     But  I  fear  he  has  rushed  upon  his  fate." 

"  And  why  ? — Hundreds  of  misguided  gentlemen  are 
now  in  arms  against  the  government,  many,  doubtless, 
upon  principles  which  education  and  early  prejudice  have 
gilded  with  the  names  of  patriotism  and  heroism  ; — Jus- 
tice, when  she  selects  her  victims  from  such  a  multitude, 
(for  surely  all  will  not  be  destroyed)  must  regard  the 
moral  motive.  He  whom  ambition,  or  hope  of  personal 
advantage,  has  led  to  disturb  the  peace  of  a  well-order- 
ed government,  let  him  fall  a  victim  to  the  laws  ;  but 
surely  youth,  misled  by  the  wild  visions  of  chivafry  and 
imaginary  loyalty,  may  plead  for  pardon." 

"  If  visionary  chivalry  and  imaginary  loyalty  come 
within  the  predicament  of  high-treason,  I  know  no  court 
in  Christendom,  my  dear  Mr.  Morton,  where  they  can 
sue  out  their  Habeas  Corpus." 

"  But  I  cannot  see  that  this  youth's  guilt  is  at  all  es- 
tablished to  my  satisfaction." 

*'  Because  your  good  nature  blinds  your  good  sense. 
Observe  now.  This  young  man,  descended  of  a  family 
of  hereditary  Jacobites,  his  uncle  the  leader  of  the  tory 

interest  in  the  county  of ,  his  father  a  disobliged  and 

discontented  courtier,  his  tutor  a  nonjuror,  and  the  au- 
thor of   two   treasonable  volumes — This   youth,  I   say, 

enters  into  G 's  dragoons,  bringing  with  him  a  body 

of  young  fellows  from  his  uncle's  estate,  who  have  not 
stickled  at  avowing,  in  their  way,  the  high-church  prin- 
ciples they  learned  at  Waverley-Honour,  in  their  disputes 
with  their  comrades.  To  these  young  men  Waverley  is 
unusually  attentive  ;  they  are  supplied  with  money  be- 
yond a  soldier's  wants,  and  inconsistent  with  his  disci- 
pline ;  and  are  under  the  management  of  a  favourite 
Serjeant,  through  whom  they  hold  an  unusually  close 
communication  with  their  captain,  and  affect  to  consider 
themselves  as  independent  of  the  other  officers,  and  su- 
perior to  their  comrades." 

21       VOL.    I. 


242  AVAVERLET. 

"  All  this,  my  dear  Major,  is  the  natural  consequence 
of  their  attachment  to  their  young  landlord,  and  of  their 
finding  tliemselves  in  a  regiment  levied  chiefly  in  the 
north  of  Ireland  and  the  west  of  Scotland,  and  of  course 
among  comrades  disposed  to  quarrel  with  them,  both  as 
Englishmen,  and  as  of  the  church  of  England." 

"  Well  said,  parson  ! — I  would  some  of  your  synod 
heard  you — But  let  me  go  on.  This  young  man  obtains 
leave  of  absence,  goes  to  Tully-Veolan — the  principles 
of  the  Baron  of  Bradwardine  are  pretty  well  known, 
not  to  mention  that  this  lad's  uncle  brought  him  off  in 
the  year  fifteen  ;  he  engages  there  in  a  brawl,  in  which 
he  is  said  to  have  disgraced  the   commission  he  bore  ; 

Colonel  G writes  to   him,   first  mildly,  then   more 

sharply — I  think  you  will  not  doubt  his  having  done  so, 
since  he  says  so  ;  the  mess  invite  him  to  explain  the 
quarrel,  in  which  he  is  said  to  have  been  involved  ;  he 
neither  replies  to  his  commander  nor  his  comrades.  In 
the  meanwhile  his  soldiers  become  mutinous  and  disor- 
derly, and  at  length,  when  the  rumour  of  this  unhappy 
rebellion  becomes  general,  his  favourite  Serjeant  Hough- 
ton, and  another  fellow,  are  detected  in  correspondence 
with  a  French  emissary,  accredited,  as  he  says,  by  Cap- 
tain Waverley,  who  urges  him,  according  to  the  men's 
confession,  to  desert  with  the  troop  and  join  their  Captain, 
who  was  with  Prince  Charles.  In  the  meanwhile,  this 
trusty  captain  is,  by  his  own  admission,  residmg  at  Glen- 
naquoich  with  the  most  active,  subtle,  and  desperate 
Jacobite  in  Scotland  ;  he  goes  with  him  at  least  as  far 
as  their  famous  hunting  rendezvous,  and  I  fear  a  little 
farther.  Meanwhile  two  other  summonses  are  sent  him  ; 
one  warning  him  of  the  disturbances  in  his  troop,  another 
peremptorily  ordering  him  to  repair  to  the  regiment, 
which  indeed  common  sense  might  have  dictated,  when 
he  observed  rebellion  thickening  all  around  him.  He 
returns  an  absolute  refusal,  and  throws  up  his  commis- 
sion." 

"  He  had  been  already  deprived  of  it." 


MAVERLEY 


243 


"  But  he  reg:rets  that  the  measure  had  anticipated  his 
resignation.  His  baggage  is  seized  at  his  quarters,  and 
at  Tully-Veolan,  and  is  found  to'  contain  a  stock  of  pes- 
tilent jacobitical  pamphlets,  enough  to  poison  a  whole 
country,  besides  the  unprinted  lucubrations  of  his  worthy 
friend  aild  tutor,  Mr.  Pembroke." 

"  He  says  he  never  read  them." 

"  In  an  ordinary  case  I  should  believe  him,  for  they 
are  as  stupid  and  pedantic  in  composition  as  mischievous 
in  their  tenets.  But  can  you  suppose  any  thing  but  value 
for  the  principles  they  maintain,  would  induce  a  young 
man  of  his  age  to  lug  such  trash  about  with  him  f  Then, 
when  news  arrive  of  the  approach  of  the  rebels,  he  sets 
out  in  a  sort  of  disguise,  refusing  to  tell  his  name  ;  and, 
if  that  old  fanatic  tell  truth,  attended  by  a  very  suspicious 
character,  and  mounted  on  a  horse  known  to  have  be- 
longed to  Glennaquoich,  and  bearing  on  his  person  let- 
ters from  his  family,  expressing  high  rancour  against  the 
house  of  Brunswick,  and  a  copy  of  verses  in  praise  of 
one  Wogan,  who  abjured  the  service  of  the  Parliament 
to  join  the  Highland  insurgents,  w^ien  in  arms  to  restore 
the  house  of  Stuart,  with  a  body  of  English  cavalry — 
the  very  counterpart  of  his  own  plot — and  summed  up 
with  a  Go  thoQ  and  do  likewise,  from  that  loyal  subject, 
and  most  safe  and  peaceable  character,  Fergus  ]\Iac-Ivor 
of  Glennaquoich,  Vich  Ian  Vohr,  and  so  forth.  And 
lastly,"  continued  Major  Melville,  warming  in  the  detail 
of  his  arguments,  "  where  do  we  find  this  second  edition 
of  Cavalier  Wogan  ?  Why,  truly,  in  the  very  track  most 
proper  for  execution  of  his  design,  and  pistolling  the 
first  of  the  king's  subjects  who  ventures  to  question  his 
intentions." 

Mr.  Morton  prudently  abstained  from  argument,  which 
he  perceived  would  only  harden  the  magistrate  in  his 
opinion,  and  barely  asked  how  he  intended  to  dispose 
of  the  prisoner  ? 

"  It  is  a  question  of  some  difficulty,  considering  the 
state  of  the  country." 


244  WATERLEY. 

"  Could  you  not  detain  him  (being  such  a  gentleman- 
like young  man)  here  in  your  own  house,  out  of  harm's 
way,  till  this  storm  blow  over  ?" 

"  My  good  friend,  neither  your  house  nor  mine  will 
be  long  out  of  harm's  way,  even  were  it  legal  to  confine 
him  here.  I  have  just  learned  that  the  commander-in- 
chief,  who  marched  into  the  Highlands  to  seek  out  and 
disperse  the  insurgents,  has  declined  giving  them  battle 
at  Corryerick,  and  marched  on  northwards,  with  all  the 
disposable  force  of  government,  to  Inverness,  John-o'- 
Groat's  House,  or  the  Devil,  for  what  I  know,  leaving 
the  road  to  the  low  country  open  and  undefended  to  the 
Highland  army." 

"  Good  God  !  Is  the  man  a  coward,  a  traitor,  or  an 
idiot  .?" 

"  None  of  the  three,  I  beheve.  He  has  the  common- 
place courage  of  a  common  soldier,  is  honest  'enough, 
does  what  he  is  commanded,  and  understands  what  is 
told  him,  but  is  as  fit  to  act  for  himself,  in  circumstances 
of  importance,  as  I,  my  dear  parson,  to  occupy  your 
pulpit." 

This  important  public  intelligence  naturally  diverted 
the  discourse  from  Waverley  for  some  time  ;  at  length, 
however,  the  subject  was  resumed. 

"  I  believe,"  said  Major  Melville,  "  that  I  must  give 
this  young  man  in  charge  to  some  of  the  detached  parties 
of  armed  volunteers,  who  were  lately  sent  out  to  over- 
awe the  disaffected  districts.  They  are  now  recalled 
towards  Stirling,  and  a  small  body  comes  this  way  to- 
morrow or  nest  day,  commanded  by  the  westland  man 
— what's  his  name  ? — You  saw  him,  and  said  he  was 
the  very  model  of  one  of  Cromwell's  military  saints." 

"  GilfiUan,  the  Cameronian.  I  wish  the  young  gen- 
tleman may  be  safe  with  him.  Strange  things  are  done 
in  the  heat  and  hurry  of  minds  in  so  agitating  a  crisis, 
and  I  fear  Gilfillan  is  of  a  sect  which  has  suffered  perse- 
cution without  learning  mercy." 

"  He  has  only  to  lodge  Mr.  Waverley  in  Stirling  Cas- 
tle ;  I  will   give   strict  injunctions  to  treat  him  well.     I 


WAVERLEY. 


245 


really  cannot  devise  any  better  mode  for  securing  him, 
and  I  fancy  you  would  hardly  advise  me  to  encounter 
the  responsibihty  of  setting  him  at  liberty." 

"  But  you  will  have  no  objection  to  my  seeing  him 
to-morrow  in  private  f" 

"  None  certainly  ;  your  loyalty  and  character  are  my 
warrant.     But  with  what  view  do  you  make  the  request  r" 

"  Simply  to  make  the  experiment  whether  he  may 
not  be  brought  to  communicate  to  rae  some  circumstan- 
ces which  may  hereafter  be  useful  to  alleviate,  if  not  to 
exculpate  his  conduct." 

The  friends  now  parted  and  retired  to  rest,  each  filled 
with  the  most  anxious  reflections  on  the  state  of  the 
country. 


CHAPTER  XXXIIL 

A  Confidant. 

Waverley  awoke  in  the  morning,  froiiQ  troubled 
dreams  and  unrefreshing  slumbers,  to  a  full  consciousness 
of  the  horrors  of  his  situation.  How  it  might  terminate 
he  knew  not.  He  might  be  delivered  up  to  military  law, 
which,  in  the  midst  of  civil  war,  was  not  likely  to  be 
scrupulous  in  the  choice  of  its  victims,  or  the  quality  of 
the  evidence.  Nor  did  he  feel  much  more  comfortable 
at  the  thoughts  of  a  trial  before  a  Scottish  court  of  jus- 
tice, where  he  knew  the  laws  and  forms  differed  in  many 
respects  from  those  of  England,  and  had  been  taught  to 
believe,  however  erroneously,  that  the  Hberty  and  rights 
of  the  subject  were  less  carefully  protected.  A  senti- 
ment of  bitterness  rose  in  his  mind  against  the  govern- 
ment, which  he  considered  as  the  cause  of  his  embar* 
rassment  and  peril,  and  he  cursed  internally  his  scrupulouE 

21*       VOL.    K 


246 


WAVERJLEY. 


rejection  of  Mac-Ivor's  invitation  to  accompany  him  to 
the  field. 

"  Why  did  not  I,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  like  other  men 
of  honour,  take  the  earhest  opportunity  to  welcome  lo 
Britain  the  descendant  of  her  ancient  kings,  and  lineal 
heir  of  her  throne  r"     Why  did  not  I 

Unthread  the  rude  eye  of  rebellion, 

And  we'come  home  again  discarded  faith, 

Seek  out  Prince  Charles,  and  fall  before  his  feet  ? 

All  that  has  been  recorded  of  excellence  and  worth  in 
the  house  of  Waverley,  has  been  founded  upon  their 
loyal  faith  to  the  house  of  Stuart.  From  the  interpre- 
tation which  this  Scotch  magistrate  has  put  upon  the 
letters  of  my  uncle  and  father,  it  is  plain  that  I  ought  to 
have  understood  them  as  marshalling  me  to  the  course 
of  my  ancestors  ;  and  it  has  been  my  gross  du.Liess, 
joined  to  the  obscurity  of  expression  which  they  adopted 
for  the  sake  of  secutity,  that  has  confounded  my  judg- 
ment. Had  I  yielded  to  the  first  generous  impulse  of 
indignation,  when  I  learned  that  my  honour  was  practised 
upon,  how  different  had  been  my  present  situation  !  I 
had  then  been  free  and  in  arms,  fighting,  hke  my  fore- 
fathers, for  love,  for  loyalty,  and  for  fame.  And  now  I 
am  here,  netted  and  in  the  toils,  at  the  disposal  of  a 
suspicious,  stern,  and  cold-hearted  man,  perhaps  to  be 
turned  over  to  the  solitude  of  a  dungeon,  or  the  infam}' 
of  a  public  execution.  O,  Fergus  !  how  true  has  your 
prophecy  proved  ;  and  how  speedy,  how  very  speedy, 
has  been  its  accomplishment  !" 

While  Edward  was  ruminating  on  these  painful  sub- 
jects of  contemplation,  and  very  naturally,  though  not 
quite  so  justly,  bestowing  upon  the  reigning  dynasty  that 
blame  which  was  due  to  chance,  or,  in  part  at  least,  to 
his  own  unreflecting  conduct,  Mr.  Morton  availed  himself 
of  Major  Melville's  permission  to  pay  him  an  early  visit. 

Waverley's  first  impulse  was  to  intimate  a  desire  that 
he  might  not  be  disturbed  with  questions  or  conversation  ; 


WAVERLEY.  247 

but  he  suppressed  it  upon  observing  the  benevolent  and 
reverend  appearance  of  the  clergyman  who  had  rescued 
him  from  the  immediate  violence  of  the  villae:ers. 

"  I  believe,  sir,"  said  the  unfortunate  young  man, 
"  that  in  any  other  circumstances  I  should  have  had  as 
much  gratitude  to  express  to  you  as  the  safety  of  my 
life  may  be  worth ;  but  such  is  the  present  tumult  of  my 
mind,  and  such  is  m.y  anticipation  of  what  I  am  yet 
likely  to  endure,  that  I  can  hardly  offer  you  thanks  for 
your  interposition." 

Mr.  IMorton  replied,  "  that,  far  from  making  any  claim 
upon  his  good  opinion,  his  only  wnsh  and  the  sole  pur- 
pose of  his  visit  was  to  find  out  the  means  of  deserving 
it.  My  excellent  friend.  Major  Melville,"  he  continued, 
"  has  feelings  and  duties  as  a  soldier  and  pubhc  func- 
tionary, by  which  I  am  not  fettered  ;  nor  can  I  always 
coincide  in  opinions  which  he  foruis,  perhaps  with  too 
little  allowance  for  the  imperfections  of  human  nature." 
He  paused,  and  then  proceeded  :  ''  I  do  not  intrude 
myself  on  your  confidence,  Mr.  Waverley,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  learning  any  circumstances,  the  knowledge  of 
which  can  be  prejudicial  either  to  yourself  or  to  others ; 
but  I  own  my  earnest  wish  is,  that  you  would  intrust  me 
with  any  particulars  which  could  lead  to  your  exculpation. 
I  can  solemnly  assure  you  they  will  be  deposited  with  a 
faithful,  and,  to  the  extent  of  his  limited  powers,  a  zeal- 
ous agent." 

"  You  are,  sir,  I  presume,  a  presbyterian  clergyman  ?" 
— Mr.  Morton  bowed. — "  Were  I  to  be  guided  by  tiie 
prepossessions  of  education,  1  might  distrust  your  friend- 
ly professions  in  ray  case  ;  but  I  have  observed  that 
similar  prejudices  are  nourished  in  this  country  against 
your  professional  brethren  of  the  episcopal  persuasion^ 
and  I  am  wilHng  to  believe  them  equally  unfounded  in 
both  cases." 

"  Evil  to  him  that  thinks  otherwise,"  said  Mr.  Mor- 
ton ;  "  or  who  holds  church  government  and  ceremonies 
as  the  ^auge  of  Christian  faith  or  moral  virtue." 


248  WAVE  RLE  Y. 

**  But,"  continued  Waverley,  "  I  cannot  perceive  why 
I  should  trouble  you  with  a  detail  of  particulars,  out  of 
which,  after  revolving  them  as  carefully  as  possible  in 
my  recollection,  I  find  myself  unable  to  explain  much  of 
what  is  charged  against  me.  I  know,  indeed,  that  I  am 
innocent,  but  I  hardly  see  how  I  can  hope  to  prove  my- 
self so." 

"  It  is  for  that  very  reason,  Mr.  Waverley,  that  I  ven- 
ture to  solicit  your  confidence.  My  knowledge  of  indi- 
viduals in  this  country  is  pretty  general,  and  can  upon 
occasion  be  extended.  Your  situation  will,  I  fear,  pre- 
clude your  taking  those  active  steps  for  recovering  intel- 
ligence, or  tracing  imposture,  which  I  would  willingly 
undertake  in  your  behalf ;  and  if  you  are  not  benefited 
by  my  exertions,  at  least  they  cannot  be  prejudicial  to 
you." 

Waverley,  after  a  (ew  minutes  reflection,  was  con- 
vinced that  his  reposing  confidence  in  Mr.  Morton,  so 
far  as  he  himself  was  concerned,  could  hurt  neither  Mr. 
Bradwardine  nor  Fergus  Mac-Ivor,  both  of  whom  had 
openly  assumed  arms  against  the  government,  and  that 
it  might  possibly,  if  the  professions  of  his  new  friend 
corresponded  in  sincerity  with  the  earnestness  of  his 
expression,  be  of  some  service  to  himself.  He  there- 
fore ran  briefly  over  most  of  the  events  with  which  the 
reader  is  already  acquainted,  suppressing  his  attachment 
to  Flora,  and  indeed  neither  mentioning  her  nor  Rose 
Bradwardine  in  the  course  of  his  narrative. 

ivir.  Morton  seemed  particularly  struck  with  the  ac- 
count of  Waverley's  visit  to  Donald  Bean  Lean.  "  I 
am  glad,"  he  said,  "  you  did  not  mention  this  circum- 
,stance  to  the  Major,  it  is  capable  of  great  misconstruc- 
tion on  the  part  of  those  who  do  not  consider  the  power 
of  curiosity  and  the  influence  of  romance  as  motives  of 
youthful  conduct.  Wlien  I  was  a  young  man  hke  you, 
Mr.  Waverley,  any  such  hair-brained  expedition  (]  beg 
your  pardon  for  the  expression)  would  have  had  inex- 
pressible charms  for  me.  But  there  are  mc  i  in  the 
world  who  will  not  believe  that  danger  and  fatigue  are 


WAVERIET.  249 

often  incurred  without  any  very  adequate  cause,  and 
therefore  who  are  sometimes  led  to  assign  motives  of  ac- 
tion entirely  foreign  to  tlie  truth.  This  man  Bean  Lean 
is  renowned  through  the  country  as  a  sort  of  Robin  Hood, 
and  the  stories  which  are  told  of  his  address  and  enter- 
prize  are  the  common  tales  of  the  winter  fireside.  He 
certainly  possesses  talents  beyond  the  rude  sphere  in 
which  he  moves  ;  and,  being  neither  destitute  of  ambi- 
tion nor  encumbered  with  scruples,  he  will  probably  at- 
tempt, by  every  means,  to  distinguish  himself  during  the 
period  of  these  unhappy  commotions." — Mr.  Morton 
tlien  made  a  careful  memorandum  of  the  various  par- 
ticulars of  Waverley's  interview  with  Donald  Bean,  and 
the  other   circumstances   which  he  had  communicated. 

The  interest  which  this  good  man  seemed  to  take  in 
his  misfortunes,  above  all,  the  full  confidence  he  appeared 
to  repose  in  his  innocence,  had  the  natural  eflect  of  soft- 
ening Edward's  heart,  whom  the  coldness  of  Major  Mel- 
ville had  taught  to  believe  that  the  world  was  leagued 
to  oppress  him.  He  shook  Mr.  ^lorton  warmly  by  the 
hand,  and,  assuring  him  that  his  kindness  and  sympathy 
had  relieved  his  mind  of  a  heavy  load,  told  him,  that 
whatever  might  be  his  own  fate,  he  belonged  to  a  family 
who  had  both  gratitude  and  the  power  of  displaying  it. 
The  earnestness  of  his  thanks  called  drops  to  the  eyes 
of  the  worthy  clergyman,  who  was  doubly  interested  in 
the  cause  for  which  he  had  volunteered  his  services,  by 
observing  the  genuine  and  undissembled  feelings  of  his 
young  friend. 

Edward  now  inquired  if  ]Mr.  Morton  knew  what  was 
likely  to  be  his  destination. 

"  Stirling  Castle,"  replied  his  friend  ;  "  and  so  far  1 
am  well  pleased  for  your  sake,  for  the  governor  is  a  man 
of  honour  and  humanity.  But  I  am  more  doubtful  of 
your  treatment  upon  the  road  ;  Major  Melville  is  invol- 
untarily obhged  to  intrust  the  custody  of  your  person  to 
another." 

*'  I  am  glad  of  it.  1  detest  that  cold-blooded  calcu- 
lating Scotch  magistrate.     I  hope  he   and  I  shall  never 


250  WAVERLEY. 

meet  more  :  he  had  neither  sympathy  with  my  innocence 
nor  witJ)  my  wretchedness  ;  and  the  petrifying  accuracy 
with  which  he  attended  to  every  form  of  civility,  while 
he  tortured  me  by  his  questions,  his  suspicions,  and  his 
inferences,  was  as  tormenting  as  the  racks  of  the  Inqui- 
sition. Do  not  vindicate  him,  my  dear  sir,  for  that  I 
cannot  bear  with  patience  ;  tell  me  rather  who  is  to  have 
the  charge  of  so  important  a  state  prisoner  as  I  am  ?" 

"  I  believe  a  person  called  Gilfillan,  one  of  the  sect 
who  are  termed  Cameronians." 

"  1  never  heard  of  them  before." 

"  They  claim  to  represent  the  more  strict  and  severe 
presbyterians,  who,  in  Charles  Second's  and  James  Sec- 
ond's days,  refused  to  profit  by  the  Toleration,  or  Indul- 
gence, as  it  was  called,  which  was  extendW  to  others  of 
that  religion.  They  held  conventicles  ifi'iW*open  fields, 
and,  being  treated  with  great  violence  and  Cruelty  by  the 
Scottish  government,  more  than  once  took  arms  during 
these  reigns.  They  take  their  name  from  their  leader, 
Richard  Cameron." 

"  I  recollect  : — but  did  not  the  triumph  of  presbytery 
at  the  Revolution  extinguish  that  sect  ?" 

"  By  no  means  ;  that  great  event  fell  yet  far  short  of 
what  they  proposed,  which  was  nothing  less  than  the  com- 
plete establishment  of  the  church  upon  the  grounds  of  the 
old  Solemn  League  and  Covenant.  Indeed,  1  beheve  they 
scarce  knew  what  they  wanted  ;  but  being  then  a  numer- 
ous body  of  men,  and  not  unacquainted  with  the  use  of 
arms,  they  kept  themselves  together  as  a  separate  party 
in  the  state,  and  at  the  time  of  the  Union  had  nearly 
formed  a  most  unnatural  league  with  their  old  enemies, 
the  Jacobites,  to  oppose  that  important  national  measure. 
Since  that  time  their  numbers  have  gradually  diminished  ; 
but  a  good  many  are  still  to  be  found  in  the  western 
counties,  and  several,  with  a  better  temper  than  in  1707, 
have  now  taken  arms  for  government.  This  person, 
whom  they  call  Gifted  Gilfillan,  has  been  long  a  leader 
among  them,  and  now  heads  a  small  party,  which  will 
pass  here  to-day,  or  to-morrow  on  their  march  toward 


AVAVERIEY.  251 

Stirling,  under  whose  escort  Major  Melville  proposes  you 
shall  travel.  I  would  willingly  speak  to  Gilfillan  in  your 
behalf ;  but,  having  deeply  imbibed  all  the  prejudices 
of  the  sect,  and  being  of  the  same  fierce  disposition,  he 
would  pay  little  regard  to  the  remonstrance  of  an  Eras- 
tian  divine,  as  he  would  pohtely  term  me. — And  now, 
farewell,  my  young  friend  ;  for  the  present  I  must  not 
weary  out  the  Major's  indulgence,  that  I  may  obtain  his 
permission  to  visit  you  again  in  the  course  of  the  day." 


;^;eHAPTER   XXXIV. 

'"'..    Things  mend  a  little. 

About  noon  Mr.  Morton  returned  and  brought  an  in- 
vitation from  Major  Melville  that  Mr.  Waverley  would 
honour  him  with  his  company  to  dinner,  notwithstanding 
the  unpleasant  affair  which  detained  him  at  Cairnvreckan, 
from  which  he  should  heartily  rejoice  to  see  Mr.  Waver- 
ley completely  extricated.  The  truth  was,  that  Mr. 
Morton's  favourable  report  and  opinion  had  somewhat 
staggered  the  preconceptions  of  the  old  soldier  concern- 
ing Edward's  supposed  accession  to  the  mutiny  in  the 
regiment  ;  and  in  the  unfortunate  state  of  the  country, 
the  mere  suspicion  of  disaffection,  or  an  inclination  to 
join  the  insurgent  Jacobites,  might  infer  criminality  in- 
deed, but  certainly  not  dishonour.  Besides,  a  person 
whom  the  Major  trusted,  had  reported  to  him  a  contradic- 
tion of  the  agitating  news  of  the  preceding  evening. 
According  to  this  second  edition  of  the  intelligence,  the 
Highlanders  had  withdrawn  from  the  Lowland  frontier 
with  the  purpose  of  following  the  army  in  their  march 
to  Inverness.  The  Major  was  at  a  loss,  indeed,  to  re- 
concile his  information  with  the  well-known  abilities  of 
some  of  the  gentlemen  in  the  Highland  army,  yet  it  was 


252  WAVEBIEY. 

the  course  which  was  most  likely  to  be  most  agreeable  to 
others.  He  remembered  the  same  policy  had  detained 
them  in  the  north  in  the  year  1715,  and  he  anticipated  a 
similar  termination  to  the  insurrection,  as  upon  that  oc- 
casion. This  news  put  him  in  such  good  humour,  that 
he  readily  acquiesced  in  Mr.  Morton's  proposal  to  pay 
some  hospitable  attention  to  his  unfortunate  guest,  and 
voluntarily  added,  he  hoped  the  whole  aiFair  would  prove 
a  youthful  escapade,  which  might  be  easily  atoned  by  a 
short  confinement.  The  kind  mediator  had  some  trouble 
to  prevail  on  his  young  friend  to  accept  the  invitation. 
He  dared  not  urge  to  him  the  real  motive,  which  was  a 
good-natured  wish  to  secure  a  favourable  report  of  Wa- 
verley's  case  from  Major  Melville  to  Governor  Blakeney. 
He  remarked,  from  the  flashes  of  our  hero's  spirit,  that 
touching  upon  this  topic  would  be  sure  to  defeat  his  pur- 
pose. He  therefore  pleaded,  that  the  invitation  argued 
the  Major's  disbelief  of  any  part  of  the  accusation  which 
was  inconsistent  with  Waverley's  conduct  as  a  soldier 
and  man  of  honour,  and  that  to  decline  his  courtesy 
might  be  interpreted  into  a  consciousness  that  it  was  un- 
merited. In  short,  he  so  far  satisfied  Edward  that  the 
manly  and  proper  course  was  to  meet  the  Major  on 
easy  terms,  that,  suppressing  his  strong  disHke  again  to 
encounter  his  cold  and  punctilious  civility,  Waverley 
agreed  to  be  guided  by  his  new  friend. 

The  meeting  was  stiff  and  formal  enough.  But  Ed- 
ward, having  accepted  the  invitation,  and  his  mind  being 
really  soothed  and  relieved  by  the  kindness  of  Morton, 
held  himself  bound  to  behave  with  ease,  though  he  could 
not  affect  cordiality.  The  Major  was  somewhat  of  a 
bon  vivantt  and  his  wine  was  excellent.  He  told  his 
old  campaign  stories,  and  displayed  much  knowledge  of 
men  and  manners.  Mr.  Morton  had  an  internal  fund  of 
placid  and  quiet  gaiety,  which  seldom  failed  to  enliven 
any  small  party  in  which  he  found  himself  pleasantly 
seated.  Waverley,  whose  hfe  was  a  dream,  gave  ready 
way  to  the  predominating  impulse,  and  became  the  most 
lively  of  the  party.       He  had  at  all  times   remarkable 


WAVERLEY.  253 

natural  powers  of  conversation,  though  easily  silenced 
by  discouragement.  On  the  present  occasion,  he  piqued 
himself  upon  leaving  on  the  minds  of  his  companions  a 
favourable  impression  of  one  who,  under  such  disastrous 
circumstances,  could  sustain  his  misfortunes  with  ease 
and  gaiety;  His  spirits,  though  not  unyielding,  were 
abundantly  elastic,  and  soon  seconded  his  efforts.  The 
trio  were  engaged  in  very  lively  discourse,  apparently 
delighted  with  each  other,  and  the  kind  host  was  press- 
ing a  third  bottle  of  Burgundy,  when  the  sound  of  a 
drum  was  heard  at  some  distance.  The  Major,  who,  in 
the  glee  of  an  old  soldier,  had  forgot  the  duties  of  a 
magistrate,  cursed,  with  a  muttered  military  oath,  the 
circumstances  which  recalled  him  to  his  official  functions. 
He  rose  and  went  towards  the  window,  which  command- 
ed a  very  near  view  of  the  high-road,  and  he  was  follow- 
ed by  his  guests. 

The  drum  advanced,  beating  no  measured  martial 
tune,  but  a  kind  of  rub-a-dub-dub,  like  that  with  which 
the  fire-drum  startles  the  slumbering  artizans  of  a  Scotch 
burgh.  It  is  the  object  of  this  history  to  do  justice  to 
all  men  ;  I  must  therefore  record,  in  justice  to  the  drum- 
mer, that  he  protested  he  could  beat  any  known  march 
or  point  of  war  known  in  the  British  army,  and  had  ac- 
cordingly commenced  with  "  Dumbarton's  Drums," 
when  he  was  silenced  by  Gifted  Gilfillan,  the  command- 
er of  the  party,  who  refused  to  permit  his  followers  to 
move  to  this  profane,  and  even,  as  he  said,  persecutive 
tune,  and  commanded  the  drummer  to  beat  the  119th 
Psalm.  As  this  was  beyond  the  capacity  of  the  drubber 
of  sheep-skin,  he  was  fain  to  have  recourse  to  the  inof- 
fensive rovv-dow-dow,  as  a  harmless  substitute  for  the 
sacred  music  which  his  instrument  or  skill  were  unable 
to  perform.  This  may  be  held  a  trifling  anecdote,  but 
the  drummer  in  question  was  no  less  than  town-drummer 
of  Anderton.  I  remember  his  successor  in  office  a  mem- 
ber of  that  enlightened  body,  the  British  Convention  : 
Be  his  memory,  therefore,  treated  with  due  respect. 
22     VOL.  I. 


254  WAVERLEY. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

A   Volunteer  Sixty   Years  Since. 

Upon  hearing  the  unwelcome  sound  of  the  drum, 
Major  Melville  hastily  opened  a  sashed  door,  and  step- 
ped out  upon  a  sort  of  terrace  which  divided  his  house 
from  the  high-road  from  which  the  martial  music  pro- 
ceeded. Waverley  and  his  new  friend  followed  him, 
though  probably  he  would  have  dispensed  with  their 
attendance.  They  soon  recognized  in  solenm  march, 
first,  the  performer  upon  the  drum  ;  secondly,  a  large 
flag  of  four  compartments,  in  which  were  inscribed  the 
words,  Covenant,  Kirk,  King,  Kingdoms.  The  per- 
son who  was  honoured  with  this  charge  was  followed  by 
the  commander  of  the  party,  a  thin,  dark,  rigid-looking 
man,  about  sixty  years  old.  The  spiritual  pride,  which, 
in  mine  host  of  the  Candlestick,  mantled  in  a  sort  of 
supercilious  hypocrisy,  was,  in  this  man's  face,  elevated 
and  yet  darkened  by  genuine  and  undoubting  fanaticism. 
It  was  impossible  to  behold  him  without  imagination 
placing  him  in  some  strange  crisis,  where  rehgious  zeal 
was  the  ruling  principle.  A  martyr  at  the  stake,  a  sol- 
dier in  the  field,  a  lonely  and  banished  wanderer  consol- 
ed by  the  intensity  and  supposed  purity  of  his  faith  under 
cv^ery  earthly  privation  ;  perhaps  a  persecuting  inquisitor, 
as  terrific  in  power  as  unyielding  in  adversity  ;  any  of 
these  seemed  congenial  characters  to  this  personage. 
With  these  high  traits  of  energy,  there  was  something  in 
the  affected  precision  and  solemnity  of  his  deport- 
ment and  discourse,  that  bordered  upon  the  ludicrous  ; 
so  that,  according  to  the  mood  of  the  spectator's  mind, 
and  the  hght  under  which  Mr.  Gilfillan  presented  him- 
self, one  might  have  feared,  admired,  or  laughed  at  him. 
His  dress  was   that  of  a  west  country  peasant,  of  better 


WAVERLEY.  255 

materials  indeed  than  that  of  the  lower  rank,  but  in  no 
respect  affecting  either  the  mode  of  the  age,  or  of  the 
Scottish  gentry  at  any  period.  His  arms  were  a  broad- 
sword and  pistols,  w^hich,  from  the  antiquity  of  their 
appearance,  might  have  seen  the  rout  of  Pentland,  or 
Bothwell  Brigg. 

As  he  came  up  a  few  steps  to  meet  Major  Melville, 
and  touched  solemnly,  but  slightly,  his  huge  and  over- 
brimmed blue  bonnet,  in  answer  to  the  Major,  w-ho  had 
courteously  raised  a  small  triangular  gold-laced  hat, 
Waverley  was  irresistibly  impressed  with  the  idea  that  he 
beheld  the  leader  of  the  Roundheads  of  yore,  in  con- 
ference with  one  of  Marlborough's  captains.  The  group 
of  about  thirty  armed  men  who  followed  this  gifted  com- 
mander, was  of  a  motley  description.  They  were  in  or- 
dinary Lowland  dresses,  of  different  colours,  which, 
contrasted  with  the  arms  they  bore,  gave  them  an  irreg- 
ular and  mobbish  appearance,  so  much  is  the  eye  accus- 
tomed to  connect  uniformity  of  dress  w^ith  the  military 
character.  In  front  were  a  few  who  apparently  partook 
of  their  leader's  enthusiasm  ;  men  obviously  to  be  feared 
in  a  combat  where  their  natural  courage  was  exalted  by 
rehgious  zeal.  Others  puffed  and  strutted,  filled  with 
the  importance  of  carrying  arms,  and  all  the  novelty  of 
their  situation,  while  the  rest,  apparently  fatigued  with 
their  march,  dragged  their  Umbs  listlessly  along,  or  strag- 
gled from  their  companions  to  procure  such  refreshments 
as  the  neighbouring  cottages  and  ale  houses  afforded. 
"  Six  grenadiers  of  Ligonier's,"  thought  the  Major  to 
himself,  as  his  mind  reverted  to  his  own  military  expe- 
rience, "  would  have  sent  all  these  fellows  to  the  right 
about." 

Greeting,  however,  Mr.  Gilfillan  civilly,  he  requested 
to  know  if  he  had  received  the  letter  he  sent  to  him 
upon  his  march,  and  could  undertake  the  charge  of  the 
state  prisoner  whom  he  there  mentioned,  as  far  as  Stir- 
ling Castle.  "  Yea,"  was  the  concise  reply  of  the 
Cameronian  leader,  in  a  voice  which  seemed  to  issue 
from  the  very  penetralia  of  his  person. 


256  WAVERLET. 

"  But  your   escort,  Mr.  Gilfillan,  is  not  so  strong  as  I 

expected." 

"  Some  of  the  people,"  replied  Gilfillan,  "  hungered 
and  were  athirst  by  the  way,  and  tarried  until  their  poor 
souls  were  refreshed  with  the  word." 

"  I  am  sorry,  sir,  you  did  not  trust  to  your  refreshing 
your  men  at  Cairnvreckan  ;  whatever  my  house  contains 
is  at  the  command  of  persons  employed  in  the  service," 

"  It  was  not  of  creature-comforts  I  spake,"  answered 
the  Covenanter,  regarding  Major  Melville  with  something 
like  a  smile  of  contempt  ;  "  hovvbeit,  I  thank  you  ;  but 
the  people  remained  waiting  upon  the  precious  Mr.  Ja- 
besh  Rentowel  for  the  out-pouring  of  the  afternoon  ex- 
hortation." 

"  And  have  you,  sir,  when  the  rebels  are  about  to 
spread  themselves  through  this  country,  actually  left  a 
great  part  of  your  command  at  a  field-preaching  f" 

Gilfillan  again  smiled  scornfully  as  he  made  this  indi- 
rect answer, — "  Even  thus  are  the  children  of  this  world 
wiser  in  their  generation  than  the  children  of  light !" 

"  However,  sir,"  said  the  Major,  "  as  you  are  to  take 
charge  of  this  gentleman  to  Stirling,  and  deliver  him, 
with  these  papers,  into  the  hands  of  Governor  Blakeney, 
I  beseech  you  to  observe  some  rules  of  mihtary  discipline 
upon  your  march.  For  example,  J  would  advise  you  to 
keep  your  men  more  closely  together,  and  that  each,  in 
his  march,  should  cover  his  file-leader,  instead  of  strag- 
ghng  like  geese  upon  a  common  ;  and,  for  fear  of  sur- 
prise, 1  further  recommend  to  you  to  form  a  small  ad- 
vance-party of  your  best  men,  with  a  single  vidette  in 
front  of  the  whole  march,  so  that  when  you  approach  a 
village  or  a  wood" — (Here  the  Major  interrupted  him- 
self)— "  But  as  I  don't  observe  you  Hsten  to  me,  Mr. 
Gilfillan,  I  suppose  I  need  not  give  myself  the  trouble  to 
say  more  upon  the  subject.  You  are  a  better  judge, 
unquestionably,  than  I  am  of  the  measures  to  be  pursu- 
ed ;  but  one  thing  1  would  have  you  well  aware  of,  that 
you  are  to  treat  this  gentleman,  your  prisoner,  with  no 


WAVERLEY.  257 

rigour  or  incivility,  and  are  to  subject  him  to  no  other 
restraint  than  is  necessary  for  his  security." 

"  1  have  looked  into  my  commission,"  said  Mr.  Gil- 
fillan,  "  subscribed  by  a  worthy  and  professing  nobleman, 
WiHiam  Earl  of  Glencairn  ;  nor  do  I  find  it  therein  set 
down  that  I  am  to  receive  any  charges  or  commands 
anent  my  doings  from  Pvlajor  William  Melville  of  Cairn- 
vreckan." 

Major  Melville  reddened  even  to  the  well-powdered 
ears  which  appeared  beneath  his  neat  military  side-curls, 
the  more  so  as  he  observed  Mr.  Morton  smile  at  the 
same  moment.  "  Mr.  Gilfillan,"  he  answered,  with 
some  asperity,  "I  beg  ten  thousand  pardons  for  interfer- 
ing with  a  person  of  your  importance.  I  thought,  how- 
ever, that  as  you  have  been  bred  a  grazier,  if  I  mistake 
not,  there  might  be  occasion  to  remind  you  of  the  differ- 
ence between  Highlanders  and  Highland  cattle  ;  and  if 
you  should  happen  to  meet  with  any  gentleman  who  has 
seen  service,  and  is  disposed  to  speak  upon  the  subject, 
I  should  still  imagine  that  listening  to  him  would  do  you 
no  sort  of  harm.  But  I  have  done,  and  have  only  once 
more  to  recommend  this  gentleman  to  your  civility,  as 
well  as  to  your  custody. — Mr.  Waverley,  I  am  truly- 
sorry  we  should  part  in  this  way  ;  but  I  trust,  when  you 
are  again  in  this  country,  I  may  have  an  opportunity  to 
render  Cairnvreckan  more  agreeable  than  circumstances 
have  permitted  on  this  occasion." 

So  saying,  he  shook  our  hero  by  the  hand.  MortOji 
also  took  an  affectionate  farewell  ;  and  Waverley  having 
mounted  his  horse,  with  a  musqueteer  leading  it  by  the 
bridle,  and  a  file  upon  each  side  to  prevent  his  escape, 
set  forward  upon  the  march  with  Gilfillan  and  his  party. 
Through  the  little  village  they  were  accompanied  with 
the  shouts  of  the  children,  waro  cried  out,  "^  Eh  !  see  to 
the  Southland  gentleman,  that's  gaun  to  be  hanged  for 
shooting  lang  John  Mucklewrath  the  smith  !" 
22*      VOL.  u 


258  WAVE  RLE  Y. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

An  Incident. 

The  dinner-hour  of  Scotland  Sixty  Years  Since  >vas 
two  o'clock.  It  was  therefore  about  four  o'clock  of  a 
delightful  autumn  afternoon  that  Mr.  Gilfillan  commenc- 
ed his  march,  in  hopes,  although  Stirling  was  eighteen 
miles  distant,  he  might  be  able,  by  becoming  a  borrower 
on  the  night  for  an  hour  or  two,  to  reach  it  that  evening. 
He  therefore  put  forth  his  strength,  and  marched  stoutly 
iilong  at  the  head  of  his  followers,  eyeing  our  hero  from 
lime  to  time,  as  if  he  longed  to  enter  into  controversy 
with  him.  At  length,  unable  to  resist  the  temptation,  he 
slackened  his  pace  till  he  was  alongside  of  his  prisoner's 
horse,  and  after  marching  a  few  steps  in  silence  abreast 
of  him,  he  suddenly  asked, — "  Can  ye  say  wha  the 
carle  w'as  wi'  the  black  coat  and  the  mousted  head,  that 
was  wi'  the  Laird  of  Cairnvreckan  ?" 

*'  A  presbyterian  clergyman,"  answered  Waverley. 

"  Presbyterian  !  a  wretched  Erastian,  or  rather  an 
obscured  prelatist, — a  favourer  of  the  black  Indulgence  ; 
— ane  of  thae  dumb  dogs  that  canna  bark  :  they  tell  ower 
a  clash  o'  terror  and  a  clatter  o'  comfort  in  their  ser- 
mons, without  ony  sense  or  savour  or  life — Ye've  been 
fed  in  siccan  a  fauld,  belike  ?" 

'«  No  ;  I  am  of  the  Church  of  England." 

"  And  they're  just  neighbourlike,  and  nae  wonder 
they  gree  sae  weel.  Wha  wad  hae  thought  the  goodly 
structure  of  the  Kirk  of  Scotland,  built  up  by  our  fath- 
ers in  1642,  wad  hae  been  defaced  by  carnal  ends  and 
the  corruptions  of  the  time  ; — ay,  wha  wad  hae  thought 
the  carved  work  of  the  sanctuary  would  hae  been  sae 
soon  cut  dow^n  !" 


AVAVERLEY.  259 

To  this  lamentation,  which  one  or  two  of  the  assist- 
ants chorussed  with  a  deep  groan,  our  hero  thought  it 
unnecessary  to  make  any  reply.  Whereupon  Mr.  Gil- 
fillan,  resolving  that  he  should  be  a  hearer  at  least,  if 
not  a  disputant,  proceeded  in  his  Jeremiade. 

"  And  now  is  it  wonderful,  when,  for  lack  of  exercise 
anent  the  call  to  the  ministry  and  the  duty  of  the  day, 
ministers  fail  into  sinful  compliances  with  patronage,  and 
indemnities,  and  oaths,  and  bonds,  and  other  corruptions, 
is  it  wonderful,  1  say,  that  you,  sir,  and  other  sic-like 
unhappy  persons,  should  labour  to  build  up  your  auld 
Babel  of  iniquity,  as  in  the  bluidy  persecuting  saunt-kill- 
ing  times  f  1  trow,  gin  ye  w^erena  blinded  wi'  the  graces 
and  favours,  and  services  and  enjoyments,  and  employ- 
ments and  inheritances,  of  this  wicked  world,  I  could 
prove  to  you,  by  the  Scripture,  in  what  a  filthy  rag  ye 
put  your  trust ;  and  that  your  surphces,  and  your  copes 
and  vestments,  are  but  cast-off  garments  of  the  muckle 
harlot,  that  sitteth  upon  seven  hills,  and  drinketh  of  the 
cup  of  abomination.  But,  1  trow,  ye  are  deaf  as  adders 
upon  that  side  of  the  head  ;  ay,  ye  are  deceived  with 
her  enchantments,  and  ye  traffic  with  her  merchandize, 
and  ye  are  drunk  with  the  cup  of  her  fornication  !" 

How  much  longer  this  military  theologist  might  have 
continued  his  invective,  in  which  he  spared  nobody  but 
the  scattered  remnant  of  hill-folk,  as  he  called  them,  is 
absolutely  uncertain.  His  matter  was  copious,  his  voice 
powerful,  and  his  memory  strong  ;  so  that  there  was  little 
chance  of  his  ending  the  exhortation  till  the  party  reach- 
ed Stirling,  had  not  his  attention  been  attracted  by  a 
pedlar  who  had  joined  the  march  from  a  cross-road,  and 
who  sighed  or  groaned  with  great  regularity  at  all  fitting 
pauses  of  his  homily. 

"  And  what  may  ye  be,  friend  ?"  said  Gifted  Gilfillan. 

**  A  puir  pedlar,  that's  bound  for  Stirling,  and  craves 
the  protection  of  your  honour's  party  in  these  kittle 
times.  Ah  !  your  honour  has  a  notable  faculty  in  search- 
ing and  explaining  the   secret, — ay,  the   secret  and  ob- 


260  WAVERLET. 

scure,and  incomprehensible  causes  of  the  backslidings  of 
the  land  ;  ay,  your  honour  touches  the  root  o'  the  matter." 

"  Friend,"  said  Gilfillan,  with  a  more  complacent 
voice  than  he  had  hitherto  used,  "  honour  not  me;  I  do 
not  go  out  to  park-dikes,  and  to  steadings,  and  to  market- 
towns,  to  have  herds  and  cotters  and  burghers  pull  off 
their  bonnets  to  me  as  they  do  to  Major  Melville  o' 
Cairnvreckan,  and  ca'  me  laird,  or  captain,  or  honour  ; — 
no,  my  sma'  means,  whilk  are  not  aboon  twenty  thousand 
mark,  have  had  the  blessing  of  increase,  but  the  pride 
of  my  heart  has  not  increased  with  them  ;  nor  do  I  de- 
light to  be  called  captain,  though  I  have  the  subscribed 
commission  of  that  gospel-searching  nobleman,  the  Earl 
of  Glencairn,  in  whilk  1  am  so  designated.  While  I  live, 
I  am  and  will  be  called  Habakkuk  Gilfillan,  who  will 
stand  up  for  the  standards  of  doctrine  agreed  on  by  the 
ance-famous  Kirk  of  Scotland,  before  she  trafficked  with 
the  accursed  Achan,  while  he  has  a  plack  in  his  purse, 
or  a  drap  o'  bluid  in  his  body." 

"  Ah,"  said  the  pedlar,  "  I  have  seen  your  land  about 
Mauchlin — a  fertile  spot  !  your  Hues  have  fallen  in 
pleasant  places  ! — And  siccan  a  breed  o'  cattle  is  not  in 
ony  laird's  land  in  Scotland." 

"  Ye  say  right, — ye  say  right,  friend,"  retorted  Gilfillan 
eagerly,  for  he  was  not  inaccessible  to  flattery  upon  this 
subject, — "  Ye  say  right  ;  they  are  the  real  Lancashire, 
and  there's  no  the  like  o'  them  even  at  the  Mains  of 
Kilmaurs  ;"  and  he  then  entered  into  a  discussion  of 
their  excellences,  to  which  our  readers  will  probably  be 
as  indifferent  as  our  hero.  After  this  excursion,  the 
leader  returned  to  his  theologi'^al  discussions,  while  the 
pedlar,  less  profound  upon  those  mystic  points,  content- 
ed himself  with  groaning,  and  expressing  his  edification 
at  suitable  intervals.  "  What  a  blessing  it  would  be  to 
the  puir  blinded  popish  nations  among  whom  1  hae  so- 
journed, to  have  siccan  a  light  to  their  paths  !  I  hae 
been  as  far  as  Muscovia  in  my  sma'  trading  way,  as  a 
travelling  merchant  ;  and  I  hae  been  through  France, 
and  the  Low  Countries,  and  a'  Poland,  and  maist  feck  o' 


WAVERLEY.  261 

Germany,  and  O  !  it  would  grieve  your  honour's  soul  to 
see  the  murmuring,  and  the  singing,  and  massing,  that's 
in  the  kirk,  and  the  piping  that's  in  the  quire,  and  the 
heathenish  dancing  and  dicing  upon  the  Sabbath  !" 

This  set  Gilfillan  off  upon  the  Book  of  Sports  and 
the  Covenant,  and  the  Engagers,  and  the  Protesters,  and 
the  Whiggamores'  Raid,  and  the  Assembly  of  Divines  at 
Westminster,  and  the  Longer  and  Shorter  Catechism, 
and  the  Excommunication  at  Torwood,  and  the  slaugh- 
ter of  Archbishop  Sharp.  This  last  topic  again  led  him 
into  the  lawfulness  of  defensive  arms,  on  which  subject 
he  uttered  much  more  sense  than  could  have  been  ex- 
pected from  some  other  parts  of  his  harangue,  and 
attracted  even  Waverley's  attention,  who  had  hitherto 
been  lost  in  his  own  sad  reflections.  Mr.  Gilfillan  then 
considered  the  lawfulness  of  a  private  man  standing  forth 
as  the  avenger  of  pubHc  oppression,  and  as  he  was  la- 
bouring with  great  earnestness  the  cause  of  Mas  James 
Mitchell,  an  incident  occurred  which  interrupted  his 
harangue. 

The  rays  of  the  sun  were  lingering  on  the  very  verge 
of  the  horizon  as  the  party  ascended  a  hollow  and  some- 
what steep  path,  which  led  to  the  summit  of  a  rising 
ground.  The  country  was  unenclosed,  being  part  of  a 
very  extensive  heath  or  common  ;  but  it  was  far  from 
level,  exhibiting  in  many  places  hollows  filled  with  furze 
and  broom  ;  in  others,  httle  dingles  of  stunted  brush- 
wood. A  thicket  of  the  latter  description  crowned  the 
hill  up  which  the  party  ascended.  The  foremost  of  the 
band,  being  the  stoutest  and  most  active,  had  pushed  on, 
and,  having  surmounted  the  ascent,  were  out  of  ken  for 
the  present.  Gilfillan,  with  the  pedlar,  and  the  small  party 
who  were  Waverley's  more  immediate  guard,  were  near 
the  top  of  the  ascent,  and  the  remainder  straggled  after 
them  at  a  considerable  interval. 

Such  was  the  situation  of  matters,  when  the  pedlar, 
missing,  as  he  said,  a  little  doggie  which  belonged  to  him, 
began  to  halt  and  whistle  for  the  animal.  This  signal, 
repeated  more  than  once,  gave  oifence  to  the  rigour  of 


262  AVAVERLEY. 

his  companion,  the  rather  because  it  appeared  to  indi- 
cate inattention  to  the  treasures  of  theological  and  con- 
troversial knowledge  which  were  pouring  out  for  his  edifi- 
cation. He  therefore  signified  gruffly,  that  he  could  not 
waste  his  time  in  waiting  for  a  useless  cur. 

"  But  if  your  honour  wad  e'en  consider  the  case  of 
Tobit" 

'•  Tobit  !"  exclaimed  Gilfillan,  with  great  heat  ; 
"  Tobit  and  his  dog  baith  are  altogether  heathenish  and 
apocryphal,  and  none  but  a  prelatist  or  a  papist  would 
draw  them  into  question.  I  doubt  I  hae  been  mista'en 
in  you,  friend." 

"  Very  hkely,"  answered  the  pedlar,  with  great  com- 
posure ;  "  but  ne'ertheless,  I  shall  take  leave  to  whistle 
again  upon  puir  Bawty." 

This  last  signal  w^as  answered  in  an  unexpected  man- 
ner ;  for  six  or  eight  stout  Highlanders,  who  lurked 
among  the  copse  and  brushwood,  sprung  into  the  hollow 
way,  and  began  to  lay  about  them  with  their  claymores. 
Gilfillan,  unappalled  at  this  undesirable  apparition,  cried 
out  manfully,  '*  The  sword  of  the  Lord  and  of  Gideon  !" 
and,  drawing  his  broad-sword,  w^ould  probably  have  done 
as  much  credit  to  the  good  old  cause  as  any  of  its  dough- 
ty champions  at  Drumclog,  when,  behold  !  the  pedlar, 
snatching  a  musket  from  the  person  who  was  next  him, 
bestowed  the  butt  of  it  with  such  emphasis  on  the  head 
of  his  late  instructer  in  the  Cameronian  creed,  that  he 
was  forthwith  levelled  to  the  ground.  In  the  confusion 
which  ensued,  the  horse  which  bore  our  hero  was  shot 
by  one  of  GilfiUan's  party,  as  he  discharged  his  firelock 
at  random.  Waverley  fell  with,  and  indeed  under,  the 
animal,  and  sustained  some  severe  contusions.  But  he 
was  almost  instantly  extricated  from  the  fallen  steed  by 
two  Highlanders,  w^ho,  each  seizing  him  by  the  arm, 
hurried  him  away  from  the  scuffle  and  from  the .  high- 
road. They  ran  with  great  speed,  half  supporting  and 
half  dragging  our  hero,  w^ho  could  however  distinguish  a 
few  dropping  shots  fired  about  the  spot  which  he  had 
left.       This,  as  he  afterwards  learned,  proceeded   from 


WAVERLEY.  263 

Gilfillan's  party,  who  had  now  assembled,  the  stragglers 
in  front  and  rear  havmg  joined  the  others.  At  then*  ap- 
proach the  Highlanders  drew  off,  but  not  before  they 
had  rifled  Gilfillan  and  two  of  his  people,  who  remained 
on  the  spot  grievously  wounded.  A  few  shots  were  ex- 
changed betwixt  them  and  the  Westlanders  ;  but  the 
latter,  now  without  a  commander,  and  apprehensive  of  a 
second  ambush,  did  not  make  any  serious  effort  to  re- 
cover their  prisoner,  judging  it  more  wise  to  proceed  on 
their  journey  to  Stirling,  carrying  with  them  their 
wounded  captain  and  comrades. 


END    OF    VOLUME    I. 


Pw^'i' 


